I tried to return a toaster because it started smoking by day three. I expected a basic exchange. The employee opened the box, looked at the toaster, then looked at me like he was about to start an interrogation.
“Did you… cook something unusual in here?” he asked.
“No?”
He shook the toaster, and a lone slice of melted-then-hardened cheese dropped out like evidence in a crime drama.
I swear on my entire life I didn’t put cheese in the toaster. I live alone. I still don’t know how it got there.
He sighed and said, “Happens more than you think,” and processed the return anyway.