[A quiet shop on a busy street. The shelves are stacked with various cages and paraphernalia. The Clerk is busy reading a magazine.]

Bell rings

Customer: Ahem, hello?

[The Clerk continues to read.]

Customer: Excuse me, sir, if I could trouble you for a moment…

[The Clerk glances at the Customer and slowly closes his magazine.]

Clerk: Go on then.

Customer: Yes, well I was wondering if you would have something specific that I’m looking for.

Clerk: What would that be?

Customer: Nothing big, it’s something small, somewhat overlooked you may even say.

Clerk: Yes, we have plenty of that here. Plenty of overlooked rubbish.

Customer: That’s not a very good sales pitch. “Come to our store, we have fresh rubbish in stock.” Doesn’t really appeal to me at all, buying rubbish from a store, I can find it elsewhere for free.

Clerk: No one’s making you buy it.

Customer: Too true. What do you they pay you for then?

Clerk: My personality.

Customer: Really now, you have the charm of a fish left out too long in the sun, I don’t see anything useful about that.

Clerk: It attracts the cats. It is a pet shop after all.

Customer: Erm, yes, I suppose it is.

Clerk: Do you have anything in mind, or are you one of those people who just walk around smelly cages for kicks?

Customer: I don’t have anything in particular to look for. You see, I’m lonely and feel the need for companionship.

Clerk: A pet would fill that lonely spot.

Customer: Indeed.

[The Customer begins to look about the store from the counter.]

Customer: What do you suppose would be a good pet?

Clerk: Well, you mentioned fish. What about a nice goldfish? they’re easy to take care of.

Customer: No, I have an allergy.

Clerk: To fish?

Customer: No, to gold. What about that there?

Clerk: The rabbit?

Customer: A cage over.

Clerk: To which direction?

Customer: The left.

Clerk: Yours or mine?

[Customer walks to the cage and taps glass.]

Customer: This one, here.

Clerk: The spider for your companionship seems a bit icky.

Customer: I would like the spider. He seems like a vicious little bugger, and I do hate having flies in the apartment.

Clerk: Arachnid. Spiders are arachnids.

Customer: Whatever you say.

Clerk: If you’re going to have a pet you had best know something about it. That kind of spider doesn’t even eat insects. It’s a vegetarian spider.

Customer: Surely there’s no such thing. And there is no need to tell me what I should know about my possible pet.

Clerk: Of course there is a need. If I had a pet I’d want to know everything about it. Don’t come crying to me when your spider doesn’t eat your bloody flies.

Customer: You don’t have a pet, do you?

Clerk: Of course not. I don’t like animals. They smell. Besides, I work at the pet shop; it’s my job to tell people what to do with their pets.

Customer: Seems condescending to me.

Clerk: No matter. Do you want the goldfish or not then?

Customer: I think I’ll just leave, thank you.

[The Customer walks down the aisle and towards the door. The Clerk reaches beneath the counter and pulls out a plastic bag with a fish in it.]

Clerk: Are you sure you don’t want a goldfish?

Customer: No, thank you.

[Remembering job training, the Clerk plasters a near maniacal grin on his face.]

Clerk: No thank you.

[The Customer leaves quickly and the bell rings again. The Clerk looks at the fish sullenly.]

Clerk: Don’t look at me like that.