Trust me when I tell you that you never want to go shopping with me at a thrift store. You’d doubtlessly grow impatient. While I’d still be pacing up and down the aisles of musty second-hand junk, gleefully grabbing handfuls of “treasure.”
You’re better off to go ahead and wait in the car. Save yourself the trouble and embarrassment of walking up to the checkout counter with me. That way you won’t have to be seen standing next to me.
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