Sometimes the observational skills (or lack thereof) that people possess amaze me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, in fact, the other day I spent the better part of an hour looking for something that was in my left hand the entire time. This is rare, I was tired and doped up on cold medicine, I am usually well aware of the contents of my hands. Mostly because at least one of them is usually holding a beer, unless I am at work, church, or asleep.

I went through the drive-through at McWendyKing’s for lunch today. Not because I like fast food, because I don’t. I just haven’t gone to the grocery store in a while, and don’t have anything easy to bring in for lunch. My total came to four dollars and change, so I handed the lady a five (doesn’t seem too complicated so far, does it?). She proceeded to give me back change for a twenty. Sure, I could have kept it, and donated it to an orphanage (or bought beer with it, whichever came first), but I knew that she would probably be reprimanded for her cash drawer being short at the end of her shift if I did. I explained to her that I had given her a five (which I knew because I only had six bucks in my pocket this morning, and, as usual, the cash fairy had not snuck into my pants. If any of you are getting visuals here, you better be picturing the cash fairy as a chick…a hot one) She thanked me, fixed her error, and I went on my way.

This reminded me of a time a few years ago when something similar had happened. I was at the beach with friends and family, and went to the nearby liquor store. Not because I wanted to buy booze, but because they were having a fundraiser. For every $15.00 I donated, they donated a bottle of booze to the Foundation for Making Josh Taylor Think He Can Dance (FFMJTTHCD). It’s a good cause, and very near and dear to my heart. I don’t remember the exact dollar figures involved, but I remember the cashier gave me back way too much change. I tried to give it back and explain this to her, and she refused to believe me. She actually argued with me and would not let me give her the money back.

It was kind of like an anti-robbery. I wanted to pull out my nine (holding it sideways, of course, ‘cause I’m gangsta), scream “Take all of this money and no one gets hurt!”, throw the cash down on the counter, fire randomly into the air, and then run out, hop into my getaway car, and take off. Instead I decided to buy mixers with it…’cause I’m gangsta.