It was fifteen minutes to four.
The queue at the ATM was so long I could get a manicure, pedicure and a pube wax, and it still wouldn’t be my turn.
I needed to get the money and be back at the office before four o’clock or risk losing my job for being inefficient.
I looked towards the front of the queue and observed that the guy that was next in line seemed like he could do with some extra cash.
‘Oh! There you are! You’re the one behind me, right?’. I’d discreetly slipped him a few notes.

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