Fernando is engaged with one of his regular customers one gloomy weekday immediately after opening. He banters about the high quality and enjoyment factor of the films the gentleman had just rented (Bridesmaids and Horrible Bosses). The man fishes about in a pocket during the back and forth and dumps what he believes to be the correct amount of money on the counter. Fernando scoops it up and sorts it into the register, then notices a mild discrepancy.
“You accidentally gave me a wad of pocket lint instead of a quarter,” says Fernando. He deposits the fuzzy blue ball on the countertop.
“Oh, I'm sorry! Probably should get you another quarter...not unless you accept pocket lint as a form of currency?”
“No, sorry,” Fernando says. “You might want to try Somalia or Eritrea or somewhere, see if you could maybe barter half a chicken for it.”
“Psh,” says the customer. “I could just head over to the C-Store if I wanted to visit a shithole. It's closer.”
Fernando chortles in a most unseemly fashion at this jab directed at the nearby gas station, accepts the man's quarter, and then spends the day in a merry mood. Laughter, good for the soul.
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