He stretches for it. “That ain’t yours”, his wife snaps, slapping him on the hand.
“It ain’t our oil either, but I don’t see you out there protestin’ the war.”
He sighs, stands up, and gestures the note at me, “Excuse me, ma’am, you dropped this.”
“Thank you, good to know there are honest people left in this world!”
“Honest? Now, ma'am, you’ve stretched the truth. But I can take a slice."
He chuckles, slumps down again, nodding to his wife. She sips her coffee and rolls her eyes.