No need to look like a skeleton

So mom and I went into Canadian Tire to go find some fuses for the car because the radio and the horn weren't working. Mom secretly knows exactly how that happened, but none of us are allowed to tell, so really, we don't know what happened, honest. It was an act of God.

We got stuck in line behind a young couple buying some sort of fancy, unnecessary car washing supplies and a cashier who had hair that looked a lot like hay from being dyed and bleached and straightened way too many times. The cashier picked up one of the items - a grey squeeze bottle - and while she was ringing it through, it began to leak all over her hand.

She then put it down and ran away, squealing that it was corrosive, but instead of running to the washroom to flush it off with water, she ran over to one of the other cashiers and found a piece of paper at the till to sort of wipe it off her hand.

We heard a lot of eew, god, it's corrosive I'm going to be, like, a skeleton or something from the cashiers, huddling over away from us. Finally a couple other cashiers came over to watch the bottle leak when it was picked up again for demonstration, and no one was quite able to figure out where exactly it was leaking from.

Finally, the other cashiers dispersed and then straw-for-hair finished ringing through the remaining items. I didn't quite see what happened next, but somehow a whole bunch of the offending liquid got spilled down the shirt of the girlfriend of the couple, as well as her hands. The response was "oh, uh, do you want something to clean that up with? the bathroom's over there..." and "do you want a different bottle? I think this one's broken..."

We moved to a different line.