Angels among us

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.

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