True Story: How I Met Ludacris
Image via https://genius.com/Ludacris-rollout-my-business-lyrics
So there I was -- manning the last register at an Ingles in a suburban town in northern Georgia on a dark, cool Easter's Eve. I was 17 at the time. The night manager was preoccupied closing down the store and counting the register money as it was approaching the 11 pm closing time. I had my hands in my apron pockets at the front of my aisle, scanning the stupid tabloid headlines. I paced back and forth, counting down the minutes until I clocked out of my shift and left for the night.
While pacing I thought, "Might as well peep outside and see if there are any straggling carts." So I walked over to the store windows and peered out into the dark, hoping for something to do to make the time pass faster.
"No carts", I thought to myself, "but is that hummer stretch limo?" I informed my boss that there was a stretch limo outside, but he didn't seem too interested. The limo was parked and the headlights were turned off, signaling that whoever occupied the limo was in the store.
I noticed a group of girls walking out of the store whispering excitedly to one another. "There must be someone important in the store," I thought to myself. Maybe a politician? A Hollywood actor?
As I wonder about who it could be, a short man in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants walks up to my register carrying nothing. I double-take. "Can I get a bottle of 'KY Yours and Mine?" I was stunned. "Sure," I said. I fetched the lubricant and handed it over. "Does anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like Ludacris?" "Yeah, I get that a lot," the man replied. He left.
I confirmed it was him by his tattoos later. And that's the story of how I sold lube to Ludacris.
Happy Easter, Luda.
Image via https://michiganavemag.com/ludacris-on-career-fear-factor-show-and-summer-in-chicago
