Customer had entered into the most perilous phase of his town-house restoration — the trim. If he was off by even a 16th of an inch that could mean the loss of a hundred dollars worth of wood. You can’t patch it.

Customer made quip: using her “Swiss precision” (her Swiss genealogical heritage) should would produce for the attendant exact change — a dollar and 38 cents for her bagel with butter.

Customer wanted a “dad-joke duel” with attendant (“you know what I came here for”) but attendant was “out of ammo,” he averred, putting his hands up. (“Come on, he’s trying to close out,” customer’s wife had urged.)


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