Not everything at my job is silly or outrageous (or horrible or insulting). Sometimes stuff like this happens:
An old, scruffy, toothless man shuffles in. He leans on the counter.
“I’d like a small coffee. Plain.” He holds up a warning finger. “Reg’lar. Just Reg’lar.”
“No problem,” I say, smiling. “That’ll be one sixty-six.”
To be honest, I’m expecting a little backlash. Most of my elderly customers do not like paying more than a dollar for a small coffee. Especially ones without dentures or a clean coat.
He says nothing.
After topping it off and securing the lid, I plunk the cup on the counter. He hands me two crumpled dollars, pulls out a third, and says, “You keep it. You keep the change.”
It was a hard day, folks.
I almost started crying.