SEK walks into the liquor store and sees a painfully white undergrad, on his phone, trying to return fifteen or so bottles of prohibitively expensive liquor. On the counter are bottles Bruichladdich, Glenmorangie, Gran Patrón Platinum, Johnnie Walker Blue, Chopin, Neisson Reserve, and Grey Goose. More bottles are on the floor. The UNDERGRAD explains his situation to the CASHIER:
Undergrad: No dawg, you don't get it. Them bottles wasn't for drinking. They were behind the bar, yo, to impress the ladies. But we served them shit.
Cashier: So you wanted your bar to look stocked and—
Undergrad: Now you feelin' me, dawg. (thumps chest and points at CASHIER) So yo, see, we put all this shit on our plastic and now we need to return it. We had to impress, yo, so— (points at bottles).
Cashier: And now you want to return them?
Undergrad: Yup. (into phone) No man, dude says we cool. (to CASHIER) We cool right?
Cashier: Long as they're not open—
Undergrad: Not open? Hold on now. (into phone) Says they need be not opened. (listens) That's what he say. (still listening) Hold on. Let me gets clarifyification. (to CASHIER) So now you saying these need be not opened? (CASHIER nods) That's not what we just now agreed on when you said we cool. Now you say we not? (into phone) Now he say we not cool. (listens) That's what he say. (listens) No, dude, now we not cool. (listens) Shit, hold on, I'll explain. (to CASHIER) So you know we had, see, you know we had to make it seems like we wasn't just stocked for the party. (CASHIER nods) Had to make seem like we always rolling, so my boy (points at phone) underscrewed some of them tops and corks and shit. But nobody drank none. (loud tinny sounds from phone)
Cashier: (reaches for a box of Johnnie Walker Black) So you just unscrewed this is what you're saying?
Undergrad: (into phone) Hold, yo. I got this covered. (to CASHIER) Look, why y'all accusin' us drinking the good shit and refilling them bottles with—
Cashier: I didn't accuse you of anything, but now that you mention it, I have an open bottle of Black back here. (brandishes two snifters) I pour some from mine here and some from yours here, they gonna taste the same?
Undergrad: What? (into phone) Wants to compare and shit. (in the parking lot someone lays into their horn) What? (car horn continues) Can't hear shit. (car horn continues) Come again? (to CASHIER) Can't hear my boy. (turns and begins to walk toward door) Hold on, yo. Be right back. (exits)
SEK and CASHIER exchange looks. The car horn ceases. A car door slams and another car—perhaps the same, but perhaps not—peels out of the parking lot. SEK and CASHIER look at the bottles left behind.
Cashier: Think the little shit would've won my Pepsi challenge?