Who Knew?

I stopped at Wal-Mart on the way home today and had a very strange interaction.

As I put my items on the counter, I noticed that the clerk was looking nervously around.

"How are you today Ma'am?" he asks

"Fine, thanks" I say as I busy myself with the card reader.

"Everything good at home?"
"Yep" I reply, thinking since when does Wal-Mart hire the polite? I look up and notice him eye-pleading with the supervisor at the end of the row for attention, looking wildly from me, to the bags, to her.
"Big plans for tonight?"
"Oh, nothing major, just a little house cleaning" I tell him, but what I really mean is "seriously, shut the fug up! I have places to go! Come on! Just bag it already!"
He hands me my change and receipt and off I go. It's not until I'm unloading my three purchases at home that I realize what made the poor pimpled youth so nervous.
It seems that when you buy Midol, three hundreds rounds of 9mm ammunition and a large shovel that boys start to worry. Go figure, right?