Okay, so I'm lame.

“What was the price Steve quoted you on this?”
“I think it was…uh…37. Yeah--37.”

So the total was 37 dollars and no cents.

He took off his bald-covering beret and pulled out his debit card. After a few tries, he finally swiped it the right way.

Taking the accordion straps and receipt from my hands, he smiled that old smile that made me want to cry and said (with a slight shake of his head), “It’s good to see you. Merry Christmas.”

This is lame, but I was almost too choked up to answer. “Oh, you too, Mr. Hill.” I finally said.

He didn’t realize that merely seeing him again had made my Christmas merry.