On a warm night, a guy walks into the San Loco on Second Avenue. Very nonchalant and reeking of alcohol. He grabs the tip jar and walks out with it, slowly, casually, into the East Village air.
The taco cashier yells, "Hey, what are you doing?"
But there is only 75 cents in the jar, so it's not worth breaking a sweat.
"75 cents!" the cashier yells, "I hope that helps you out. Asshole."
Another sign of the bad old days' return?