He was also running out of this cream for his behind when it gets chafe. I looked all over the store for it, the baby aisle, the ointment aisle, and the medication aisle. I went back and forth three times. I didn’t want to ask a clerk since I wasn’t sure what to call it. I knew it had a ridiculous name with “butt” in it. So finally I gave up and went up to a man who might have been the manager. He was up front and had a shirt that reflected the store’s identity.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Uhmmm, I‘m looking for butt cream. I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
The man had dark hair pushed back, and his face looked middle aged, or perhaps a shade younger. He looked at me square in the eye, and then when my words finally registered in his head, he doubled over laughing.
I must have turned red, and quickly said, “It’s for a child.”
The man regained himself and nodded his head. I’m not sure what he meant by that nod, perhaps to say “yeah, they all say that.” What he did say was, “It’s actually called Butt Paste, and it’s in aisle 14."
I thanked him and went over and found it. It was the baby aisle, but I hadn’t noticed it. I was looking for a plastic tube and it turned out they package the tube in a box, which threw me off.
I bet that man went home to his wife and told her a funny story. He was probably laughing all night.