There's no such thing as free lunch.

Cael and I went to Freddy's today, and before we could make it through the front door, we were accosted. Usually, it's the girl scouts (damn them and their cookies!) but today it was a guy from the Statesman Journal. He shoved a newspaper in my face and asked if I would like a free copy.

I said yes.

No one knows why I said yes. I don't like papers, I don't need papers (if it isn't on Stewart or Colbert, it isn't news!) and I certainly didn't want to put it in my cart and deal with the inevitable, "Are you going to pay for that?" from the checkout lady. (We all know that "dealing with checkout ladies" ranks somewhere just above "sand in underwear" on Allies Scale of Discomfort.)

But I took it.

Apparently, taking offered free stuff means that you have to stand there and listen to Paper Dude go through his entire spiel. It's like an invisible tether of obligation. Little did he know, I didn't even want the free one. If I didn't want his free paper, I sure as heck didn't want to sign up for a monthly subscription. And no, two gold dollars don't sweeten the deal. Unfortunately, I'm just so good at smiling politely (what? I am!) that he was so encouraged he felt the need to keep going and going. He even worked Cael into the pitch, saying how adorable he was and being quite the charmer.

Then he got to the end of his little checklist and I denied even the smallest subscription. The moment the final "no thank you" left my lips it was like a switch was flipped. Paper Dude's face fell flat, he turned his back to me and actually made "Have a nice day" sound like a threat.

I barely refrained from chasing after him, calling, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to reject you! Can I get the one that comes with the coins? They looked very shiny!"

Grocery stores should totally have back doors.