Standing behind the bar pulling shots and steaming milk, you have the distinct privilege of eavesdropping on customers.
One day, I listened to a young man gently arguing about the roll of currency in his hand. “No, no, no,” he insisted. “I am the first person to ever use these dimes! That means they’re uncirculated!”
His friend shook his head, looking unimpressed. “I don’t think so, man.” He then noticed me grinning at their conversation and leaned onto the counter where I was putting out their americanos.
“He thinks I care,” he drawled in his best Clark Gable impression. “But frankly, my dear, I don’t give a dime.”