PROSE POEM
The bill was $5.90
I hand the cashier $11
She tries to give me back $1
I say she can now give me a 5
"Still ends up being the same change" she says, unclear if to me or explaining to herself.
She hands me $5
"It still ends up being the same," she repeats.
#FightFor15
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Good it wasn't packaged by kids.
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