“I'm sorry, but there's a limit of one per customer on this item.”
“I have only one.”
“You have only one now, but you had only one a few minutes ago when you came through this checkout line the first time and bought this exact same item. You bought one already and now you're trying to buy another one. That makes two, and there's a limit of one per customer.”
“But I'm not the same customer.”
“You are the same customer.”
“No, I'm not. I'm coming through the line again and making a new purchase. That makes me a new customer.”
“Going through the line again does not make you a new customer. The sign says 'one per customer.' One-per-customer doesn't mean you can buy as many as you want so long as you go through the line again each time you buy another one.”
“Where does it say that? The sign doesn't say that. The sign doesn't define what 'one per customer' means.”
“No, it doesn't, and there's a reason: It's because everybody knows what it means and no normal person would ever think of challenging it.”
You've got to feel sorry for the cashiers in St. Clair County whenever their employers offer a special that has a limit of one per customer. You know they must dread seeing Circuit Judges John Baricevic, Robert LeChien, and Robert Haida come strolling into the store, arm in arm.
Will each of the jurists go through the line a second time and try to buy more than one of the limited item? Will each one argue at length about the meaning of 'one per customer'?
Their reputations precede them wherever they go.
All three are known for their inability, or unwillingness, to understand plain English. How else to explain their attempt to circumvent their clear obligation to run for retention (with its higher standard for incumbents) by resigning their posts and pretending to be first-time candidates?