A bodega. I wander around. I stack yogurts and hold them in my arms. I frown at granola. Finally, I take my groceries to the register.
The BODEGA CASHIER stares at my groceries for a long moment.
BODEGA CASHIER: This is all?
BODEGA CASHIER stares at my groceries again.
BODEGA CASHIER: $17.00.
I reach for my wallet.
BODEGA CASHIER: I did that all in my head. You see?
ME: Yeah, good number, ha. Seventeen.
BODEGA CASHIER: Now we count.
One by one, BODEGA CASHIER sorts through my groceries.
BODEGA CASHIER: This is five. This is six. Six plus five, eleven. Then these — these are — five more. So we have sixteen. And then you have these —
BODEGA CASHIER frowns. He begins to total the purchases on the register. It comes up as $18.00. I lean on the counter, because we are friends now.
ME: It’s okay if you have to change it.
BODEGA CASHIER: No, we’re going with $17.00.
I point to a bag of chips that he has neither bagged nor included in either tally.
BODEGA CASHIER: These too?
BODEGA CASHIER shrugs. He puts the chips in the bag. I hand over my debit card. He charges me $17.00 and hands me the receipt.
BODEGA CASHIER: What happened? It’s so cold.
BODEGA CASHIER: Have a nice day now.
[end of interaction with world]