People must love shopping here when these two work the same shift. "There isn't one big enough to help you!"
And there's really no one up front so...she wanders up and down a couple of aisles before making her way ever so slowly back to where Larry is. She's thinking, you see. About Tennyson.
"Okay, so...say I want to read this intellectual poetry crap but I can't because it's like one of those...what do you call it, been there done that sort of feelings? Like maybe I read this crap in high school and it was so horrifying I'm mentally blocked against it and can't read it without having throwback nightmares to term papers from hell?" Lies, but with enough truth that an answer might be helpful.