Productination

The bill for our meal was $16.70.

I was completely satiated by my “hobo breakfast” and was particularly pleased with the pancakes which were perfectly crisp and fluffy. My date seemed happy with her California scramble. It was a good, solid meal, aside from the corned beef hash that tasted of fish (I suspect they were using the same oil for everything).

I love eating breakfast and breakfast foods. I feel incredibly fortunate to have lived near an abundance of such cheap and greasy, and the occasionally fancy, restaurants in Berkeley. I will eat breakfast foods at any time of the day. Today, we enjoyed sleeping in and didn’t eat until about two in the afternoon.

Before leaving my apartment, I had casually counted the cash in my money clip and commented that we were “rollin’ with nineteen dollars” today. She laughed and said sarcastically, “wow, what a baller.”

Now that the bill had arrived, it was clear that I was about a dollar short. Certainly, a dollar meant almost nothing to me, but in this case it was the difference between a nice tip and a lousy one. As someone who has worked in the service industry in the past, I knew that a tip could sweeten or sour someone’s entire day.

I had some more cash in my car, my emergency parking fund.

“You don’t have any cash on you?” I asked.

“Well, I have some nickels,” she said.

“I can’t leave nickels, hon,” I said, “I’ll be right back.”

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