It was early afternoon when I pulled into the diner, the off time for them. A little too late for those wanting lunch and a little too early for anyone wanting an afternoon break. There was a new girl behind the counter and I gave her my order and sat down to wait.
The new girl was pretty and young and bubbly, full of smiles. She was quite willing to chat with the customers, me in this case, without being too forward. Not that I'd have objected if she wanted to be a bit forward with me. She was around eighteen, dark hair, dark eyes, nice tan, and a very nice figure. A C cup, according to my discerning eye, which is what I consider the right size for my hand.
My snack came out and I took my time, enjoying it. The cook was an old friend and highly skilled. When I say old, I mean very old, as he was in his seventies. He only worked in the diner because he found it too boring being retired. Darlene, the waitress, hung around and flirted mildly for a while, then went back to her stand behind the counter, reading a magazine while keeping one eye on me in case I needed something else.
My appreciation of the new waitress was shortly to take a marked downturn. I finished my coffee and strolled over to the counter to pay for the meal. I handed Darlene a fifty and she stuck it in the till and then started dithering. I have never known anyone take so long to count out some change. She dropped some change and had to pick it up. Dropped it again and picked it up again. I waited patiently and she finally counted out my change.
She short-changed me. I had handed her a fifty and received change from a twenty. I gently pointed this out to her.
Normally when someone short-changes you and you point it out they apologise and give you the rest of your change. The chances are that, if it's a deliberate ploy, the checkout girl will have the rest of your change under her hand, ready to give it to you if you complain, or to pocket it if you walk away without noticing. Sometimes they'll argue the point, but very rarely.
Darlene was prepared to argue the point. She smiled very prettily and flatly denied that she'd given me the wrong change.
"Oh, no," she insisted, "you only gave me a twenty. You can see that I rang it up as a twenty. Look, I haven't even put it under the snap on the drawer. It's just resting on top."
Maybe it was, but I'd been watching and she'd raised the snap and lowered it on the fifty. I'd taken note of that because the norm is to stick the fifty on the clip in front of the till while they count out the change. That way what you gave them is in plain sight and there is no argument. The rotten little bitch was deliberately trying to pinch my money and make me feel guilty for suspecting that she could make a mistake like that.
I was very specific. I stated flatly that I'd given her a fifty that she had placed in the till. I didn't give a damn what she'd rung up, I wanted the correct change. She flatly refused. I'd given her a twenty, she insisted, tears in her eyes, and that was all she could give me change for. If she gave me change for a fifty she'd be short when the till was balanced and she'd have to pay the difference.
It was a brilliant performance, but a performance was what it was. I was supposed to feel like a heel for making her cry, concede that I might have made an error, and depart quietly, leaving her victorious. Instead I jibbed, demanding my change.
Darlene got louder, protesting hard enough for the cook to hear and come out, demanding to know what the problem was. I suspected that she had old Charlie wrapped around her finger and expected him to give her unconditional support. I put my case first.
"I paid Darlene with a fifty and she had deliberately short-changed me," I said flatly.
"No," protested Darlene. "That's not it at all. He only gave me a twenty and he's trying to make it look like it's my fault. It's not, I swear."
Very pettily said, and there was a real catch to her voice. Old Charlie nodded thoughtfully and made his pronouncement.
"Give him his change, Darlene," he said. "We need to have a little talk."
"What?" Darlene was shocked. "You're taking his word over mine?"
Oh, the injury in her tone. How could Charlie do this to her? Was there no justice in the world?
"Darlene," said Charlie with a sigh, "do you remember me saying the owner would be dropping by today? Let me introduce you to Brendan."
"My change, please, Darlene," I said softly, smiling gently.
At least, it was supposed to be a gentle smile. Darlene cringed at the look on my face so maybe it wasn't all that nice a smile. She hastily produced the missing thirty dollars and handed it to me.
"Thank you," I said. "Charley, why don't you shut up shop for a short while? We're about to have a staff meeting."
"So," I said, turning to Darlene, while Charlie went and turned the door sign to closed and locked the door. "Run that little scam very often, do you?"
"It wasn't a scam," Darlene protested. "I honestly thought that you'd only given me a twenty. I swear I did."
"Well, I'd love to believe you, but I've had a complaint about you doing the same thing to someone else," I said affably. "That tends to suggest a pattern."
I was going to lower the boom on her and she knew it. The tears vanished and she just looked plain furious. She was fairly caught and there was nothing she could really say, so she wasn't going to bother. Charlie had other ideas.
"Ah, a word with you, boss, before you do anything that I'll regret," said Charlie before I could take Darlene to pieces.
I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. He knew the policy where cheating the customers was concerned. One strike and you're out. Darlene didn't have a leg to stand on. Well, she did, two very nice ones, but they weren't going to help her any.
"Darlene really needs this job," Charlie said quietly. "If she loses it she's not going to find another one around here. She's a good worker and popular with the customers. I'll be in everyone's dirt book if she gets fired."
"You know, I don't think she'll be too popular with the customers once they twig to the fact that's she's ripping them off," I pointed out.
"She'll cry and deny it. Who do you think they're gonna believe, you or her."
I had to grin at that. She was almost able to convince me that I'd handed her a twenty instead of a fifty, and I'd made a note of the serial number on the bill. Essential for little traps like this.
"Trouble is, if I keep her on she gets off scot free, decides that we're soft, and keeps on bilking the customers. Someone's going to wise up and we could find out reputation going down the tubes."
"Well, I didn't say let her off scot free. I guess some sort of penalty need to be applied. I'm just saying give her another chance."
I looked at Darlene who was looking totally innocent and put-upon, letting Charlie speak for her. Probably her best course of action at this stage.
"So if I keep her on and apply a different penalty, what would it be? A bit hard to demote someone who's already on the lowest rung and I'm not allowed to apply financial penalties. Running the cash register is an essential part of her job. I need to be able to trust her and at this point, I can't."
Charlie scratched his head and pondered. I waited. Darlene played Brer Fox, lying low and saying nothing.
"She's just a kid," muttered Charlie.
Not according to her employee details. I didn't point this out because Charlie wasn't actually talking to me. He was considering Darlene.
