“Ol’ Ben is still trying to figure out that lottery machine,” he said.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry!”
“Oh, it’s OK. See, normally, if we run a mistake like that, we have to buy it. But Dave” by which he meant the other Dave “ended up buying it.”
“Awesome!” I said.
“He was sayin’ that he hopes you don’t think he was mad at you.”
I thought about how we’d yelled at each other, in public, and how he’d stormed off into the back room and slammed things around. “Oh, no, it was all just a silly mistake.”
So his name is Ben. I’ll have to buy him a beer or something.