Quarter

Susan and I were in our usual booth at the coffee shop.
Two cups of coffee on the table, mine black and hers with cream and sugar.
She’s got her iPad out, Facebooking.
Then, she takes a napkin from the dispenser, jots down a note, flicks the pad some more.
“Can’t you just tap that out on the pad?” I ask.
She doesn’t even look up from the pad. “What?”
I take a quarter out of my pocket, plink it against the table, *plerp* into the cup.
She picks up the cup, sips.
Doesn’t even notice.
I pay and leave.