Im confused now. All nervousness facades. “Why do you want to know where my bracelet is from?”
The man looks embarrassed. “I’m about to have my 35th anniversary with my wife and she loves jewelry. I thought it would make a cute gift.”
I melt. That was so sweet. I take off my bracelet. “Here, Mister. You keep it. It was mine from my mom, who got it from her mom. It’s special. Maybe it will mean more to her.”
He smiles, and blushes. “You’re too kind, but I was thinking she may like a new one.”
I look down and notice the worn beads and scratch marks.
Well.. I guess that’s the quality you get from a quarter machine…