Death!

One afternoon I had driven myself to Target for some last minute shopping. I believe it was for a birthday, because I was wandering around the toy section.

There was a worker in the same aisle as me, stocking up the brightly colored boxes of action figures.

"Excuse me, miss," I turn, even though it's not directed towards me. I see an older lady (I'd put her around... 80? but I'm bad with pegging ages) in one of those scooters that the store provides for people who can't walk.

"Miss, I'm dying."

WOAH! At the announcement, me and the worker are both flung into panic mode. The worker, looking a little shocked, asks for clarification in a shaky voice. I guess this had been her first experience with death as a Target stocker.

"Miss, my batteries are dying, I can barely move."

Oh. Her chair is dying. Not her.

I swear she did that on purpose.