A Dollar Holler

Today I arrived in Statesboro a little early for the first day of Term A Summer classes at Georgia Southern.  Since at the end of the week I’m flying to Manhattan for a long Memorial Day weekend, I decided to run by the grocery store to pick up a few of those travel size products.  (Did you know they sell Gold Bond Powder in teeny tiny containers?!  Remind me to add that to my Five Friday Happy Bringers this week.)

Waiting in a long line (very patiently I might add), I came out of my daydreaming (about, upon my retirement, the possibility at my age of becoming either a tug boat operator on the Savannah River or a Broadway star) when I heard the following exchange between the Friendly Store Clerk and the Girl with the Puppy Tattoo in front of me.

Friendly Store Clerk:  “That’ll be $5.74, ma’am.”

Girl with the Puppy Tattoo:  “Oh gosh.”  (Fumbling frantically in purse.)  “I only have $5.00.”

[Long silence]

Friendly Store Clerk:  “Uh.  Hmm.  Well.”

At this point, it hit me that I could get us all out of this thickening and beginning-to-get embarrassing plot very simply.  But the following thoughts flew through My Mind first:

My Mind:  “If I take out my billfold, open it and don’t have a dollar, will I turn red?”

My Mind:  “What if she thinks I’m a dirty old man?”

My Mind:  “What if Friendly Store Clerk gets unfriendly and belligerent?”

My Mind:  “I’m too shy to do this.”

My Mind:  “Which would bring in more money, Tugboat operator or Broadway star?”

(Okay, kidding about that last one.)

Well, I looked at my shoes, and decided to Just Do It.  I opened my wallet, breathed a sigh of relief that I had a one dollar bill and (feeling like an adult child of Mother Theresa and Donald Trump), handed GWPT the dollar.  Her eyes increased in wattage as she took it and presented it to the SMILING Friendly Store Clerk.

“Have a blessed day, sir,” the Girl with the Puppy Tattoo said.

And that was that.  I walked out with my teensy powder,  having answered a dollar holler.