low-tech office space scam

If you're like me, you've seen the movie Office Space. If you're even more like me, you've seen it a lot. For those of you who aren't like me, in the movie a group of disgruntled employees contemplate getting even with the company they work for by installing a program that will round all the transactions the company makes down to the nearest penny and then dump all the fractions of a cent into a separate account that only they would have access to. With the number of transactions the company made in a day, their plan would've made them millions, less than one cent at a time, over the course of a few years. . . Anyway, I think I just ran into the low-tech version of that scam. But first. . .

Today I had a craving for orange Gatorade. Which is weird. I don't crave Gatorade. And I can't even remember a time in my life when I've actually consumed orange Gatorade. If ever I was driven to drink Gatorade, it was pretty much always fruit punch that I went for. Even though I don't remember ever drinking orange Gatorade, as I sit here, drinking orange Gatorade, it's exactly what I expected and disturbingly fulfilling. But I didn't start the day with orange Gatorade. I had to go somewhere to get it. So I found myself in a convenience store, a local chain that is more common to this area than Starbucks, trying to get the attention of the man by the cash register who had his back to the entire place. He turned and said, "Don't wake me. It's rude. I don't come to your house while you're sleeping and wake you. Do I?" It was a joke. I think. His face had an almostsmile, and he didn't seem genuinely agitated by my presence. But for whatever reason, he really wasn't pulling off playful. So I payed for my things and waited for my change. Two dollars and twelve cents. As the guy made change, I noticed that he went into the little coin drawers four times, instead of three. Must've missed once. But then he handed me my change. Two dollars and three cents. Hmmm. Then he reached toward his pocket. Interesting. Did this guy just give me a penny instead of a dime and then pocket the dime? I'm almost positive he did. Hmmm. What should I do about it? My first impulse was to puff out my chest and go into my manlydeepvoice and say, "Hey man! What you tryin' to pull?" But then I realized it's just ten cents. Nine cents actually. He probably needs it more than I do. And if he does, I would've emptied out my wallet for him if he had asked. So really, if stealing ten cents from customers helps him to provide for himself and/or his family without forcing him to humiliate himself by asking for a handout, what's the real harm? Plus, I don't even know for certain that he did indeed take the dime. Maybe it was a legitimate mistake. Whatever. I'm fine with my decision either way. Some people might be tempted to point me toward a slippery slope: If you let him get away with something small like this, then he'll just move on to bigger scams. If he does, someone will catch him and stop him. He's not very good at it. I spotted this scam. Me. The guy who didn't notice the horses on his regular running route or the bashedinness of the back of his good friend's car. I'm often not very observant, and I recognized this one.

I'm grateful for orange Gatorade (20). Really. I am. I can't believe it either.