We ran out of beer and whiskey all at once last weekend. My buddy drove us to the liquor store and I jumped out and ran inside to replenish the stock.
When I got to the express line with the hooch, the lady in front of me was unloading her little hand-basket onto the conveyor belt. She had the usual stuff – a half-gallon of milk, a carton of eggs, a quart of orange juice, some lettuce, a can of coffee – stuff like that.
I said to her “You must be single.”
She looked a bit startled. She looked at her groceries, then at me, then back at her groceries, trying to figure out how I could tell she was single just by looking at her selections.
I guess curiosity got the better of her, because she finally said “You’re right, I am single, but how the heck did you know that?”
I said “Cause you’re ugly.”
She walked out without her stuff.