sister, can you spare a dime?

This evening I had two unusual encounters both involving very small amounts of money.

First, at the Wildgreen Cafe at 88th and 3rd, a nicely-dressed lady came in and tried to buy a half a cup of coffee. When the man behind the counter held up the smallest size and told her, well ... that it was the smallest size, she asked how much, and he said $1.10, and she looked disgusted and walked out. She didn't look like she was hurting for fifty-five cents, either.

Even though she didn't look needy, I was actually considering offering to split a cup of coffee with her, assuming that the guy behind the counter would agree to put it in two separate cups. Unfortunately for her, this bitch had a poor attitude, so I didn't say anything.

The second strange encounter was at Staples, where I was making copies. Kinkos, you see, is home to the sorts of people who briskly make their copies and otherwise keep to themselves; Staples, being a cent or two cheaper per copy, attracts people who haven't seen a copy machine since 1966, as well as people who don't have credit cards and have never had the need to make a copy before because they are not accustomed to processing words on paper.

An old lady came in and wanted to know where to put the change. Someone else explained that you have to use a credit card, or go buy a copy card. She wanted to know if you can put just a dollar on the card. I turned around. She was carrying just one piece of paper. I asked "Do you have just one copy to make?" She did. The original had one word on it, a last name. She wanted to blow it up "as big as possible." It took me several tries to accomplish this (when enlarging by 400%, this copier enlarges whatever is in the upper righthand corner). She kept saying "I'll give you eight cents!" In the end, she gave me fifty cents, and thanked me twice.

I can only wonder what xeroxed heraldic heirloom craft project her grandchildren are going to be receiving.