Yesterday, I went to Costco to pick up a big ol’ bag of Purina dog chow for Necco, my loyal canine companion. Now, Necco isn’t just any dog—he’s a 191-pound Wonder Dog. And I mean that literally. He’s big enough to need his own zip code.

So there I am in the checkout line, wrestling with this industrial-sized bag of kibble, when the woman behind me looks over and asks with genuine curiosity:

“Oh! Do you have a dog?”

Now… what exactly did she think I was buying it for? A house hippo?

But since I’m retired and have way too much time on my hands, I decided to have a little fun.

With a totally straight face, I said, “No, I don’t have a dog. I’m starting the Purina Diet again.”

That got her attention.

I explained how the last time I did it, I lost 50 pounds—right before I woke up in intensive care with IVs in both arms and tubes coming out of places I don’t even want to mention. I told her it’s a perfect diet: nutritionally complete, totally balanced. You just fill your pockets with kibble and eat a few nuggets whenever you’re hungry.

By this point, everyone in line was listening. You could hear a pin drop between chuckles.

Then she asked—horrified—if it was the dog food that landed me in the hospital.

I shook my head and said, “No, I stopped to pee on a fire hydrant and got hit by a car.”

The guy behind her was doubled over laughing. I thought he might need CPR.

Suffice to say… Costco won’t let me shop there anymore.

Moral of the story?

Be careful what you ask a retired person. We’ve got all the time in the world to mess with you.