"That's fifteen-thousand seven-hundred and three won," I rang up. "App or card?" 

I hated having to ask, but mine was a franchised shop, and the company did not accept cash as a policy. The old lady in front of me looked at me hopelessly, probably never having heard of either. 

Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, I chanted, but one more look at those helpless and utterly bewildered eyes had my heart and my common sense melt away. I plastered a smile on my face and bowed. "Don't you worry, my dear." I proceeded to place the items in a shopping bag. She had not bought that much anyway, some rice, some sauce, some laundry detergent and a toothbrush. Fifteen-thousand was nothing I couldn't make up for. 

"I'm… Why is no shop accepting cash these days? This is crazy. I don't have…"

"Like I said, no need to worry. It's all on the house. I know these are odd and difficult times."

I pressed the shopping bag into her hands, then opened the door for her. 

My stomach sank. Yes, fifteen-thousand wasn't much. But half of my customers were over the age of seventy, and this was not the first sale I had rung through complimentary today.

"You're doing the selling part wrong, I believe." Taehyung announced, nursing a large cup of hot chocolate. 

"You're supposed to sell those, not drink them yourself." 

Taehyung shrugged, "what does it matter if we give away all of the stuff for free anyway?"

He had a point there. 

"Well, if you have any idea how I could get around the no-cash policy, let me hear it," I huffed. 

"Easy," Taehyung took another sip, and had me wait until his drink was finished before presenting his easy solution, "stop being so gullible." 

"What you mean?"

We both looked from the door, where we watched the old lady getting into her car and driving off. 

Taehyung shrugged. "You're too nice. It's bad for business. Bank cards are no new invention, you know."

"I'm aware, but not everyone has one, or is confident to…"

Taehyung shook his head. "No."

"No what?"

My new employee, who almost managed to show up on time today, shook his head then came close enough for our face masks to touch. "Mr Shop-owner, sir—"

—I had no idea why he insisted on calling me this. I had told him on numerous occasions that my name was Hobi.—

"—Apothecaries don't accept cash these days," he continued. 

"What do I care about apothecaries?"

"You should. I've been watching the pharmacy across the road all morning, you know."

I did know. I got several phone calls from them this morning, asking why my new employee was standing in front of their window with a pair of binoculars.

"I still have no idea why you did that instead of doing the work you were supposed to be doing."

"The work I'm supposed to do is making coffee, Mr Shop-owner, sir. And for that, I require customers."

That statement was not wrong per se, but there had been customers wanting a coffee, however my barista was at the other side of the road, binoculars pressed against the pharmacy's window. 

Yoongi would have gone over there and ripped the guy a new one, but neither had I the knees nor the courage for that. Instead, I took a deep breath, and smiled my best five-thousand-watt smile, "what exactly was the purpose of your investigation?"

"Who goes to a pharmacy, you think?" He asked back.

"Well, sick people. People in need of medication."

"And demographically, who do you think a majority of those sick people are?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "How should I know? I'm not the one watching them."

Taehyung had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Old people need a lot of medication, so a lot of old people go to the pharmacy." 

I took a step back because the close body contact made me feel a little uncomfortable, but Taehyung followed suit, and we stood once again nose to nose. "Old people buy a lot of stuff at the pharmacy, and pharmacies don't accept cash." 

I took another step back, and Taehyung followed me, and we did this dance until his words sank in. 

"Well, I'm sure some old people have cards and know how to use them."

I stood pressed against a wall, and Taehyung's nose was touching mine. Had this guy not heard of social distancing—or personal space?

"Most of today's customers came here from the pharmacy, or vice versa." Another step closer. Our crotches touched, and I was really, really uncomfortable now. 

"Do you fancy me Mr Shop-owner, sir?"

"No!" I squealed, wishing I had space to escape. 

Taehyung took a step back. "Most people push me away when I do that. But you let me invade your space without complaint. That's a bit weird, you see." He went back to his coffee station as if this had just been a most normal employee-employer interaction, while I remained standing there with my mouth hanging open. 

From my peripheral vision, I saw another customer leaving the pharmacy with a large shopping bag in her hands. She was one of my regulars, my regular non-payers. 

"I really have a habit of letting people walk all over me," I sighed. 

"If it's any consolidation to you, it's making my life a lot easier," Taehyung, sporting a fresh drink, announced. "This is the first job I didn't get fired from on the first day."

"I'm going out for a smoke," I huffed. 

I didn't go for a smoke, or rather I did,  but I didn't go to my designated smoking area. I dragged my leg across the car park, then waited for traffic to pass, and crossed the road, praying no one would see me. 

Maybe it was big chain pharmacies that no longer accepted cash. The one's where such decisions were made in big corporate offices rather than by customer-facing folk. The pharmacy across the road was independently owned and probably happy to accept cash. 

I stomped out my cigarette and walked inside. I needed new painkillers anyway, so I grabbed them from the shelf and shuddered at the cost. 

My own shop sold painkillers, but at a lower price. I hoped these would be thrice as good. 

Trying to test my theory, I took my purchase to the register and presented a waddle of notes. 

The pharmacist did not even acknowledge it, but simply pointed to the PDQ machine, "Card only."

Maybe they insisted on card payments because I was at an age range where I was expected to understand technology. That must be it. I paid for my purchase and shoved my notes back into my pocket. Then, I lingered around the shop in the hopes to witness how they would respond to an elderly person. And I found myself lucky. 

Mr Eun entered the shop just a few minutes later. He was a white-haired gentlemen in his eighties, who liked to remiss in the past and carried his coins in a knitted pouch rather than a wallet. He called radios and TVs new-fashioned things he didn't need and had no idea what a computer was and how one used them. 

He handed the pharmacist a prescription, then waited for the medication to be prepared. I was half-hiding behind a shelf so he would not spot me. 

The pharmacist rang up the purchase, which had come to more than seventy-thousand won.

As expected, he handed some crinkled notes from his pouch. 

"You know our shop policy, Mr Eun," the pharmacist shook her head and pointed at the PDQ machine. 

"The shop across the road doesn't make me do that." He protested. 

"Well, we're not the shop across the road, Mr Eun."

"The nice gentleman at the shop across the road gives me my items free of charge."

"I am sure he does, Mr Eun." The pharmacist responded in an automatic voice as if they assumed they were being sold a fairy tale. And it did sound outer-worldly. Who in their right mind gave out things for free?

After some more huffing and puffing, Mr Eun produced a card and paid for his purchase, clearly knowing what he was doing.

Had I really been played a fool by the whole neighbourhood?

I trotted back to my shop with my head hanging so low, it almost scratched the ground. A queue had formed at the register, that trailed all the way to the back of the shop. I had not seen this place so busy in a long while, especially not in the current weather conditions. 

Taehyung stood at the register, taking his sweet time to ring up items, but no one seemed to complain at the slowness of the service. "No, no need to queue if you don't need a receipt," he shouted to the people at the lower end of the line. "It's shop policy not to take payment, you see."

Whitening in the face, I hobbled toward the front of the line, and even heard somebody yell, "hey, get in line."

"What are you doing?" I barked at Taehyung with clenched teeth, then turned to the customers and stretched my face into a wide smile, despite crying on the inside. "I'm sorry folk, special promotion is over. All purchases need to be paid for from now on."

There was a communal sigh, then the line cut in half. "I need to see the manager," a lady wearing a black baseball hat complained. 

"He's standing right in front of you," I bowed and tried to brace myself for the waterfall of complaints that was about to come. How dare I try to make a living here when it was hard times for everyone else.

Taehyung looked at me with his big eyes and green contact lenses. "We're becoming capitalists now?"

"Yes. That's exactly what we're going to be. We're going to be the most capitalistic of them all," I gruntled.

Taehyung put on a serious expression, then mock-saluted me, "I will charge them double for carrier bags."

"Let's stick to our regular prices." 

Taehyung nodded and rolled up his sleeves. Meanwhile, I had a glance at the register. His actions had cost me around three-hundred thousand won. That was a lot of money, but it could have been much worse. Thank god I was behind on stocking the shelves, and a lot of things had been unavailable. 

"How about you go back to your cafe?" 

Taehyung shrugged, then walked over to his coffee machine. His creations from this morning seemed to be in line with our standards, but I had to take the milk alternatives off the menu for the time being. My employee had the tendency to decide for our customers which type of milk they should have. It was a decision I had made after he told a customer, that she had a face like a 'soy type of person.'

My alarm rang at two o'clock. "Taehyung?" 

My employee, who was currently serving  a Winter Bear Latte (I didn't dare to ask what that was) to a wary looking customer, turned around. "Yeah? How can I help you?" He trotted over, coffee still in hand, the customer following him with a disgruntled expression. 

"It's two o'clock," I advised. "Let me ring up this order, and you get ready to leave." I was not quite sure how to price the Winter Bear Latte, as I had no idea what was in it, but Taehyung had already rushed off. I ran it through the register as a Christmas Latte, and hoped this was what it essentially was. 

"You should have charged more," Taehyung advised me after the customer had left and the coffee machine was not cleaned, but at least switched off. "It was a special edition after all, and we're capitalists now."

"Capitalism also means to let people choose their own drinks," I countered. "Anyway, time for you to clock out for today." It was Tuesday, and Taehyung's therapy day. "Are you going to be picked up?"

Taehyung shook his head. "I brought the car." 

In my parking lot stood a fancy, purple coloured Range Rover. 

"Nice ride," I commented, a little surprised. Not only because I had not expected someone who was about to get his life back together driving an overpriced vehicle like that, but mainly because I had assumed someone with several DUI's would have their license suspended. 

Once my last customer was out the door, I went to the coffee station to clean up. It was my fault really. If I wanted Taehyung to do a task, I needed to specify it. Instead, I had told him to switch off the machine and go home, which was precisely what he had done. 

On the upside, he had performed rather well, all things considered. As this was the first job he had kept for more than a day, maybe he was really trying? Tomorrow, I would compliment him on his good work. 

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