Steve

Returning an electric sander to the hire shop, the man behind the counter asks me how I got on.  He is of middle age and middle build.  He has floppy, dusty-coloured hair.  I tell him I've done well.  He smiles and one tooth sticks out an an angle.

I give him my credit card to receive a refund on my deposit.  It has to be the same card with which I hired it.  He tells me of a racket where builders would give their own cards to receive the refund from company hires.  'And then I'd get a phone-call two weeks later from someone telling me I've stolen from them', he says.  'I'm too old to be rolling around with customers now', he tells me.  'Not like back in the day?', I ask.  He pauses.  He shows his tooth.  'It wasn't too long ago, actually', he says.  'About twelve months'.  He tells me about some Albanians who nicked some scaffolding because they thought it was 'beer money'.  The result had been fisticuffs.  He looks pleased with himself.  'Got in more trouble from the wife', he says.

Our transaction is complete and I ask my question.  He laughs, unperturbed, and gives me an answer.