Doorknobs and DayQuil

While lazing in Hessel, in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula, I found need to replace a keyed door handle. One would never imagine procuring such a presumably common impliment might be at all a difficulty. Yet neither hardware in nearby Cedarville offered such a commodity; even the Ace in Pickford all of 11 miles distant offered not what I had thought would have been a hardware staple. C'est la vie; such is life. As I was considering a trek to Sault Sainte Marie, the Soo, 35 miles distant from Hessel, I elected to consider whether I might discover such product in a place of business there. But tomorrow would suffice for that journey.

On the trail back through Cedarville I decided to stop at the Family Dollar for DayQuil (as I seem to be fighting a cold) and flavored carbonated water. I simply adore Family Dollar's Strawberry Kiwi and Wild Cherry water. Perusing the shelves of yon establishment I stumbled upon canned vegetables, among which was Margaret Holmes' Tomatoes, Okra, and Corn medley. As I likewise adore tomatoes, okra, and corn yet rarely enjoyed okra (a veg I particularly love yet rarely enjoy; Mom used to fry it rolled in corn meal and, to employ the vernacular, boy, that was good eatin') I presumed Margaret would be flattered should I purchase  a can for myself, to eat with the fish patties awaiting my dinner in the Hessel freezer.

Margaret's mix was good, but was galaxies removed from me Mom's recipe.

Be that as it may, before reaching the checkout it occurred to me that Family Dollars typically have small hardware sections. I didn't expect to find it there, yet lo and behold there was exactly one brand new keyed doorknob. I took it in my hands with a cackle. It saved a 70 mile round trip which may have been for naught anyway, there currently being a dearth of such commodities in the eastern Upper Peninsula for some reason.

Setting my items down at the checkout, the clerk began to scan them. Water, veggies, and DayQuil were scanned promptly and efficiently. Then she scanned the doorknob once, yea twice, each attempt performed unsuccessfully. "What's your birthday?" she demanded. Indeed, it was a command.

I drew back in confusion, asking incredulously, "You require my birthday lest I cannot purchase a doorknob?"

"No, I'm sorry, sir. I need it for the DayQuil. It won't let me scan the doorknob until I get it," she explained.

Okay, I then understood. I don't get why Big Brother feels need to protect me from daytime cold medicines, but perhaps that's another issue.