its the little things.

i was at a fast food outlet today and i felt so guilty because i've watched one too many documentaries over recent times. I stood in line for barely a second before the manager waved me in to an empty register. Big smile, big service and it was like why are you being so nice to me? i hate the fact im so sucked in by the familiarity of your brand. Death merchant. She asks me if i want to go large, yeah why not i thought, im already here so why not go the distance. I picked something local in flavour, one that stood out from the rest because it had the word OZ wrapped about it...she took my cash, and asked me if i got a little change because she was short...i said i didnt and she said that was fine and not to worry, she'd just let me off the thirty cents.

Then the head turned, i knew what this little manager was doing, a little skimming of the register as was the taboo practice in my fast food hey day. i looked for the evidence...no green digits on the read out like its supposed to...she didnt punch in, she was stressing inside hoping she wont forget her additions and subtractions. How much was supposed to balance at the end of this little stolen period. Hmmm. i wanted to say something but then i decided against it, i gave her a knowing wink instead as i took my tray, and i think she thought i was having a go.