Dollars and Sense

A customer comes in to rent one evening. She brings her tags up to the counter and Fernando fills out the slip. “It'll be three-fifty,” he says, before turning and searching the walls of his office for the cases which bear stickers matching the numbers on the tags.

Fernando retrieves the movies and returns to his place at the counter. The customer has pulled a small, folded clump of bills from one pocket and flips through them, withdrawing singles and depositing them in a messy pile on the countertop. “Oh...oh no.”

“What?”

“I don't have enough money.” Sure enough, the pile of money has capped at three ones.

Fernando scratches his cheek. “You have a ten in your hand here.”

“Yeah, but I don't want to use that.”

“You also have a five nested inside of that ten.”

“I don't want to use that either.”

“Um.” Fernando's throat tickles, and he coughs. “I don't think it's a matter of preference right now.”

The customer sighs and hands over the five dollar bill.