Quarter

Stopped at Aldi’s near my house to pick up groceries on my way home from work. Had on my black leather jacket and food stains on my black work pants.

I saw a couple of suits walking around, not shopping, while I was there. I’m not dumb. I asked the cashier: she said one of them was the president of the company.

They all were retreating into a locked room as I was leaving; but I had the urge to talk to him, for a moment, about the sales company I have. An account like this would make me rich almost overnight.


But I didn’t go to the door. Instead I left, and then driving towards my apartment, I turned my car around and went back to the store.

I walked right up to him. He was tall and obviously the one by the way he carried himself. His haircut was off though.

I shook his hand and handed him the quarter I used for the shopping cart.

“Thank you,” I said. I told him how I had been through hard times and I was always able to take care of my son coming here. Told him I had just come from work and I pitched him my business on the spot.

He replied in typical dick fashion and gave me back the quarter with a quick smile.

I walked out to my car, flipping the coin, feeling the blood pulse through my arm like it never had. When I got home I taped it to my wall.

I feel like I got somethin’ better than all the money I woulda got if I had landed that long-shot deal: I knew I wasn’t afraid of anything.