(95 words)

“One dawla, fifty cents,” he said in a delightful southern drawl.

Fourteen Georgia billboards had beckoned us to the Peach Palace, Exit 57. My wife ordered a peach smoothie, now sitting before her on the counter. She held out two $1 bills.

“‘Zak Chains,” the young man said.

Unprepared for his friendly introduction, my wife replied, “What? Oh… nice to meet you Zak, I’m Emily.”

He studied her for a moment before pointing to a handwritten sign taped to the front of the register.

“‘xact change,” he said again.

Ten years later we still laugh.

Copyright 2018 by D.A. Donaldson


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