Piper Donovan moved up in the express checkout line and placed her six items on the conveyor belt. “What kind of dog do you have?” asked the cashier, scanning a box of canine treats before depositing it in Piper’s reusable shopping tote. “A Jack Russell terrier,” answered Piper, smiling. “He’s such an imp. He lives for these Fido Fudgies.” When the order was tabulated, Piper slid her debit card through the slot. It didn’t take. She slid it again. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” she muttered, concerned that her account balance was even lower than she’d thought. “It’s not working.” The young woman held out her hand and Piper gave her the card. The cashier scrutinized it. With stubby, nail-bitten fingers, she tapped numbers onto the register keypad. The transaction went through. “Thanks,” said Piper with relief as she took back the card and slipped it into her wallet.
