Like most gay aerobic instructors/writers of musical theater, Joel Derfner doesn’t need any damn receipts for his batteries. Duane Reed, as it turns out, doesn’t need want his pink slips in return.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need a receipt,” Joel puncuated as the cashier punched up his purchase. “The woman behind the counter appeared not to have heard me, however” he reports on his blog, “because when she handed me my batteries the receipt was right there in her hand.

“Oh, that’s okay,” I said, with slightly more volume. “I don’t need the receipt.”

She looked at me blankly for a moment. “Well, I don’t really need it either,” she said.

I grabbed the batteries and receipt and stalked out of the store.

At the time her insolence enraged me but thinking about it now I find it pretty funny.”

Joel is writing a musical called Terezin, about the Nazi propaganda camp of the same name. Incidentally, Nazis loved to keep receipts for everything, including homosexuals.

Duane Reed doesn’t need it either [ The Search for Love in Manhattan via Gawker]

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