I think the Devil sent a customer in the store today in the form of an eight-year-old boy. I found it quite odd that he came in alone but when he came up to the register with 21 different pens, I greeted him with a smile. My sweet southern smile soon turned to immense frustration as I tried to find the codes for the pens. I tried keying in the description of each, company information, etc. Fifteen minutes later, with three more customers in line, I discovered the codes I needed. I gave him the total of $20.33 and pulled out on of our tacky Merry Christmas bags. He frowned, and said, “I don’t got that much.” He then walked out of the store. I quickly jumped onto the counter and began pelting his little All-American-Boy head with pens. Alright, so I merely smiled at the next customer while hiding my deep seeded hatred against idiotic children.