“Hey Arlene, thanks for the shit you put me through this morning,” Fluvio growls.

“What did I do now?” Arlene, our very pregnant waitress, exclaims.

“You added two bucks to a tip and the customer called to complain.”

“I did not!” Arlene says angrily.

Fluvio hands her credit card slip in question. The check is eighty dollars. The tip on the credit card slip is a hastily crawled number. It could be a ten or a twelve.

“I adjusted the check for twelve,” Arlene protests.

“Well the lady says the tip’s ten bucks.”

“Cheap bitch,” Arlene huffs.

“The lady called me from Florida to complain. She made me send her a check for two dollars,” Fluvio says.

“She called to complain about two bucks?”


“She must be from Miami Beach,” Arlene snorts.

“Oh that’s nice Arlene. Feeling a tad hormonal today?” I chuckle, joining the conversation.

“Fuck you,” Arlene shoots back.

(Anti-Semitism and sexism in the space of two seconds. How about that!)

“And I lost 37 cents on the stamp!” Fluvio interjects.

“Oh, don’t you start,” I moan.

“What kind of person quibbles over two lousy dollars?” Arlene asks.

“People who really look at their credit card statements,” Fluvio says.

“They should,” I say, “My credit card company is always trying to screw me with bogus late fees. They even signed me up for an insurance plan without my ok.”

“Really?” Arlene says.

“Yeah, I caught it and they refunded the whole amount.”

“Those bastards,” Arlene says, “I should double check my statements.”

“Money’s money.” Fluvio sighs.

“But to bitch about two dollars?” Arlene asks rhetorically.

We’re quiet for a moment.

“You know this conversation suddenly reminds me of a great movie,” I say.

“Which one?” Fluvio asks.

I WANT MY TWO DOLLARS!” I grumble evilly.

Better Off Dead!” Arlene shrieks in recognition.

That’s a real shame when folks be throwin away a perfectly good white boy like that!” I laugh.

“Huh?” Fluvio says befuddled,


“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Fluvio yelps. He hates not being in on a joke.

“Better Off Dead was a film from the Eighties Fluvio,” Arlene explains laughing, “A crazy a paper boy goes psycho trying to collect two dollars from John Cusack.”


“Forget it Fluvio. I think you were in Italy when the movie came out.” I say.


“I can just imagine this little old lady rapping her cane on our window screaming for her two dollars.” Arlene says.

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I admit.

Arlene and I laugh and go back to work. We promise to give Fluvio a copy of the movie. I wonder if it’s dubbed in Italian.

I haven’t thought about that movie in years. What a great flick.


I know people. Money’s money.

But come on – its two dollars.

Share This

Share This

Share this post with your friends!