My total at the print shop was 1.57 €. I pulled out a 50 € bill. The guy hissed through his teeth. “Ohhhh, a 50, uhh, phew, that’s rough. No, hmm, no, please, I don’t think I have change for that. Maybe paying with card is better?”
It sure was—for him. Because instead of waiving the 45-cent surcharge for card payments under 10 €, which is exactly why I had brought cash to begin with—and what any business-minded shop owner would have done at this point—he punched it right into the register.
“Clearly, this guy hates repeat customers,” I thought as I stepped outside of the store. But then I looked at my receipt. “2.02 €,” it said. Suddenly, I felt kind of good about paying a 28% surcharge for, well, charity, I guess.
A thought hit me: From a business perspective, this was unacceptable. But from a human perspective, it was forgivable. And if all it cost me was 45 cents, then forgiveness was not just the generous but kind of the only option. How often do you get to forgive someone for a rounding error, after all? Only a fool would reject this opportunity—and if you had taken one good look around the guy’s shop, you’d have done the same in a heartbeat.
Rationality can be a fine key for unlocking the door to human connection, but don’t break it off by trying too hard—especially when so much as a whisper of empathy will blow that door wide open.