As you might be able to see, I don’t have a title yet. Well, that’s not true. I have three cool titles with no stories attached to them in my mind, so I’m gonna write this and see if any of those apply to it. If not, I’ll come up with something else.
In any case, enjoy this obviously-inspired-by-real-events snippet.
“You’re such a patient young man!” the older woman with gin blossoms said while her face shifted into a smile. Her jowls trembled at the motion like splotchy, flesh-colored Jell-O.
Having taken the handful of coin from the woman and correctly tallied the three quarters, five dimes, seven nickels, and forty pennies into two dollars of currency, the drive-thru worker thanked God as she finally pulled out three singles to pay the remaining portion of her order. A ding and a sigh accompanied the opening of the cash register, and the money was quickly tossed inside. The cashier put on his best customer service smile and adjusted the name tag stating that “JARED would like to feed you today” before turning back to the woman and handing her the order. Two Stentburgers, no tomato or onion – God forbid, the clerk thought, this woman eat anything resembling a vegetable.
The woman with gin blossoms took the bag and set it gingerly on the passenger seat of her car before turning back to the clerk. “Thank you, young man.”
The cashier grinned as if flattered and nodded. “Actually, you want a bit of advice?” he asked.
“Oh? What’s that?” Blossoms replied.
The drive-thru worker leaned in close. “What you might not know is that they have these places, called banks?”
The customer’s Jowl-Os quivered in confusion.
“Yeah. What you do is, you take your change there, and they put it in a machine, and then they give you real money, and you use that to buy sandwiches so that the cashier – that’s me here – doesn’t have to spend five minutes counting your goddamned change while a line of cars grows behind you that I then have to deal with instead of going and getting a drink of soda.”
Blossoms remained silent, shocked.
“So. Next time, you bring me paper money and no more than 99 cents of exact change, or we find out how much your corneas like ketchup and mustard. And maybe ranch dressing.” The cashier nodded sagely. “We’ll play it by ear.”
The woman stared, and the cashier put on his most genuine smile once more. “Thanks for choosing Cliff’s this evening, you have a great night!” And he continued to smile as he slammed the drive-thru service window shut and went and got a drink of soda.
Greetings From Wilson! 
BTW: RENT
(A play about gays and AIDS would be great. )
People should be held accountable for their actions. And what I mean is, if I see a kid in a store playing with an expensive piece of crystal while his oblivious mother chats on her cell phone, I should be allowed to tell him to stop. And if he smarts off, I should be allowed to lightly smack his hand. And if the mother gets mad, I should be allowed to tell her to mother her child so the rest of society doesn’t have to.
Harsh, yes. Accountability, responsibility, courtesy. Tough love.