Only in a Small Town

Sometimes, stories happen to me.

I picked up my neighbor’s prescriptions at the Hannaford.  

Dropped them off at his house and he wrote me a check for a substantial amount of money to pay for the medicine.  On the way home, I stopped at the bank, presented the check to Jon, the teller.  

He walked away, then came back to the window with a funny look on his face:  

“If I didn’t know you better . . . , " he said, and held up the check.  

In the lower left hand corner, where you write the purpose of the check, my neighbor had written, “Drugs.”