Mistaken identity

Mistaken identity

It’s happened more than once, that when I’m shopping in a store

A customer confuses me with those who work the floor.

Perhaps I just convey an air of wisdom to admire

(Or maybe it’s my khaki pants which match the clerks’ attire.)

Regardless, I will answer best I can in helpful chat:

“Oh, aisle three is what you need,” or, “We don’t carry that.”

It’s possible my answers verge on claptrap or on bunk;

But what I lack in expertise I compensate in spunk.

I offer up a happy wave with thanks as from a clerk

…If only I were such a help at place I really work.