Okay. So I'm in a liquor store in Xxxxxxx, XX and I grab a six pack and try to roughly guesstimate the tax on $7.46 on my way to the register. I figure it's going to be eight something so I count nine dollars out of my wallet while the beers in question get the ring-up.
Chuh-Chinggg! Eight Dollars and One Cent. Damn. I don't have any change on me. I do the quick eyeball around for the penny cup but there isn't one. The thought flashes through my mind that silliness is about to dictate I break a one to cover the penny. No penny forgiveness.
Fair enough. Seems odd, but maybe my small town existence has caused me to unconsciously expect a one cent round up or down. No big deal. I hand the guy a five and 4 ones. He starts to count out the change and stops... looks at his hand... looks up at me and says, "I think I owe you a penny."
No shit. His drawer was short one penny. In the 2 to 3 seconds I looked and him and he looked at me while irony died silently, I swear I heard my brain go, "GAaaaaak-k-k-k...", as it ground to a fucking halt.
Then I kinda laughed and said, "Eh, keep the goddam thing."
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