Tuesday night is half-price burgers after 5:00pm at Sonic. Which means dinner for $1.25 plus tax, plus tip. Last night I sprung for the “sweetheart shake” as well, and skipped the fries. So dinner should have been $1.25 + 2.99 x 1.0825 + tip. And it wasn’t until I had nearly finished my burger that I realized I had been charged full price: $2.49 + 2.99 x 1.0825 + tip, or $6.59, and she kept the change without asking. Seven bucks for a better-than-OK burger and somewhat-mediocre shake.
I had planned on plunking the 41 cents into the Christmas jar, but I am not going to begrudge a hardworking carhop 41 cents. I did flag her down after she delivered somebody else’s order and point out that I had been overcharged.
Here are the recall tickets. Click to embiggen.
Here is my change. Anything strike you as odd?
Me, too; must be that new math. The coins are now composting in the Christmas jar.
Something really funny happened at work yesterday, but I can’t tell you about it, except that I made a distinctly non-PC comment about it to the office manager, who told the managing attorney. Who came, laughing, to me and said I had pretty much summed up the situation. [So I am not in trouble, even in this day of political correctness and sexual harassment and hostile work environments.]
I am thankful that our office is typically atypical in terms of what a law office is “supposed” to be like. For the most part, everybody gets along with everybody else. We have remarkably few tempests in our teapots; we back one another almost seamlessly, and the people at the top of the food chain are remarkably civil and thoughtful to those of us swimming in the minnow pool.
Work, this week, has been rather more exciting than I am used to. I have yet to reach the point where I feel as if I were juggling chainsaws or twirling flaming batons. I just chug along, spitting out reports and pleadings and cover letters, fielding the occasional phone call, and trying to keep the protein/carb balance optimal for the firing of all mental cylinders. Both nights I have gone home tired, but with that good kind of tiredness that comes from a successful, productive day.
And there has been sock progress. It’s a little early to tell, but I think I might wind up with two nearly-identical socks. I’m about an inch past the last of the toe increases.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!