Bubkin

So I was just buying some groceries at the AM/PM (our version of 7-Eleven). As I stand in line, the woman in front of me, at least 50 years of age, looks at me weirdly. She ask if I live nearby and I politely reply. She asks me a couple of questions more, then pauses somewhat suddenly. A terrified look appears on her face, and she says, "I apologize, mister, but I cannot continue this conversation. You remind me too much of my son, who would have been about your age, had he not passed away the recent month."
Naturally, my initial reaction is uncomfortably looking at the floor. But I recover quickly and give her my polite condolences. She nods, and the conversation ends (or so it seems).
A minute later, as she unpacks her cart, she makes a rather odd request:
"Would you please do me this one favor?" and of course, without waiting for a reaction, she continues, "Please, mister, you can make me so happy. When I leave the store, wave to me as if I were your mother. I can imagine that you are my son, and it will help me cope with this immense pain I'm feeling right now."
Now this might be a good time to think for yourself if you would have agreed to help her in my shoes. I can tell you that I'm not the type to refuse a 50 year old woman in grief. As she left the store, she looked at me, and I waved with a smile.

Well, that could have been a nice story if it hadn't been for the following epilogue: later, when the cashier lady gave me the bill for my groceries, I see that I was charged for a lot more than what I really owe. I ask the lady, "what's that about," and her reply is: "well, your mother told me you're paying for her stuff."

I stood there in shock. Needless to say, the woman was nowhere to be found when I ran to the street.