Dan and John both looked whipped as I entered the motel office.
“This lady wants ninety dollars,” Dan whined.
“Ma’am, we’re three old guys tryin; to spread Joe’s ashes at Apache Creek,” I said, holding up a quart jar of ashes. “Joe’s sister is coming from Vegas in the mornin’, John rode a motorcycle from Oregon, Dan came from Show Low, and I just got here from Dallas. Can you give us a discount?”
“Well, seventy dollars?”
“Done!” I said, handing her five twentys.”
“How’d you do that?” asked Dan.
“Ya gotta ask,” I said.