Duel

A full day has passed since the battle and the only thing I can remember about my opponent other than her Dunkin Donuts uniform was a tattoo:  A faded bird perched between her thumb and pointing finger.  She was a worthy adversary, and so I tip my (Pirates) cap in her general direction, but the cards were stacked in my favor.  Money and principle were at stake, and although I am not prepared to die for such things, I am willing to sustain a sloppy Indian rug burn or a scabby wound.  Besides, it was she who threw the gauntlet down, and the first rule in the Penny Pincher Combat Manual is:

 "Never Relent."

It all began innocently enough with the purchase of an iced coffee at the drive-thru.  Total price: two dollars and five cents (I did not make the purchase, but was brokering the deal for a coworker).

I handed over two dollars and a dime.  My outstretched hand awaited the heft of nickel change.

It never came.

Alarmed, I turned to look, but the server ignored me.  She had already started to prepare the next order in line.  The register was closed.

And so it began.

Seconds ticked away and a line of cars suddenly formed behind me.  Lunch time.
She finally noticed that I was still there and we locked eyes; f--- you f--- you f--- you.

Game on.

She scrunched her nose in contempt and let out an exasperated sigh.  It was evident she had seen my type before:
Homosapien Cheapskate-icus.


I froze in place and lowered my heart rate to six beats per minute.
She shook her head, opened the cash box, and disgustedly picked a nickel from inside.
She sneered.
"Here's your change."
I feigned surprise and smiled.
"Why, thank you."
I drove away, victorious,
with my nickel change
and redemption.