Standing in a tent at the "Taste of Lombard" today, a man next to me asked if I had change for a $100 bill. I almost said "no" without even checking, but before I got it out of my mouth I realized that I probably did have five $20 bills and enough more not to worry about being stuck with the $100 bill later.
So I counted out the five crisp twenties I'd gotten from an ATM only hours earlier, probably with sequential serial numbers, and I traded them for a crisp hundred.
The guy said to his friend, "See, he's cool. I couldn't do that in Detroit."
I've been smirking over that comment all day.
1 comment:
That's a cute story.
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