
A few minutes later, I see him down the aisle. Same khaki shorts, same beat-up sneakers, same baseball cap he always wears. I walk right up, throw an arm around him, and say, “Find the pipes yet, old man?”
Not. My. Dad.
The guy turns and just stares at me, holding a pack of screws, completely confused. I froze mid-hug and just blurted out, “Oh my god, you’re not my dad.” Meanwhile, my actual dad is a couple of aisles over, *dying of laughter* because he saw the whole thing happen.
I must’ve apologized like ten times. The guy was nice about it, though, said something like “Don’t worry, I get that a lot.”
Now I double-check before hugging anyone in a hardware store. Lesson learned
Comments