eleven dollar bills/day shift

we had a bazaar in the basement at NB.
it was just like Thrift Shop:
i sneezed like crazy.
everyone was amazed that my knowledge of numbers was sufficient for me to sell things—and, moreover, catch people trying to add things up wrong, right in front of me.
i stayed very late:
i barely made the train to Novi Sad;
that it is, again, running is a small consolation; this will have to grow, as its tracks are among the allowable ones.