A Quarter Short
I rarely pay for things in cash,
Although some stores prefer it.
They charge more for a credit card,
So customers deter it.
But at the local bagel shop,
I placed my morning order
And realized that, when tallied,
I’d be somehow short a quarter.
I asked the counterman to please
Remove one single bagel,
To prove I wasn’t out to,
By some method, well, finagle.
He smiled and said, ‘You’ll bring to me
The quarter when you’re able,”
Not wanting to deprive me of
A bagel at my table.
I walked back home and quickly grabbed
A quarter from the pile
And at the shop, I plunked it down,
Which earned a startled smile.
The whole exchange reminded me
Of childhood; before supper,
To hit the grocer’s for some bread,
I was the picker-upper.
I carried change and worried that
I might be short some money.
The fact it happened now, not then,
Is really kind of funny.
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