Walk up to cafe counter. Greeted by cashier.

“Good to see you again.”
‘Good to see you.’

“What can I get you?”
‘How about a coffee in a medium to-go cup?’

“How about I give you a large but only charge you for a small?”, she smiles.

— And this is where my apparent mental illness kicks in, and all I want to say is THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID! —

But she’s standing there smiling at me — and despite the nearly irresistible urge to completely ruin what is a perfectly good moment, I simply smile back and say, ‘That would be very nice! Thank you.’

“My pleasure.”

That’s what she said.

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