conversation of the moment

i walk into whole foods and take a pecan bun to the counter. like an automaton, the cashier lady says, "$1.99."

i put a $2 bill on the counter and she just stares at it. after, maybe, 30 seconds she says, "that's a $2 bill."

i respond with a statement that i tend to use a lot when people say things that are right, namely, "that's right."

she keeps staring.

it's becoming clear that i need to do something or i will stand here, quite literally, forever. she is somehow transfixed by hideous nature of thomas jefferson and his mona lisa smile in the same way drivers can't avoid looking over at a grisly car accident as they drive past. "i always carry 2's. a girl friend of a friend of mine works at the federal reserve -- i get a stack of 100 from her whenever i run out."

the woman looks at me without expression and says, "you're evil."

i smile. "i am. but it's the lowest form of evil and the best kind, right? i mean you can see it and you know it for what it is, right?"

she looks at me blankly and says, "i'm not so sure," sliding my penny change across the counter.

"thank you," i say, beating a hasty retreat to the door. i glance back as i leave, only to see the cashier, glaring steadily, at the bill on her counter.