What does one lemon cost these days?

It wasn’t much, but it would most certainly do. The shelf held a few of his favorite bottles and some glasses, both tall and short. A long spoon and a sharp knife. Ice bucket. Bitters. A mixing glass. All the important things a liquor shelf should have. Just add a lemon and some ice, and he’d have endless possibilities.

Shopping for one lemon is somewhat silly. He figured the convenience store down the street would have one. What does one lemon cost these days? He used to text a guy after service twice a week to have a few cases of lemons, limes, and oranges delivered to the bar the next day—that was so long ago. Now he just needed one.

Sure enough, 7-11 had a few decent specimens sitting in a bowl by the coffee and breakfast items. They certainly weren’t organic, but all he needed was the thin peel from the outside. He declined a bag and walked out the door. DING! Fifty-seven cents, in case you were wondering.

He stopped into his regular coffee shop for an espresso, but mostly for a cup of ice. A jolt of caffeine never hurt, and they never charged him full price, plus they have a good playlist. The machine clanked and sputtered, but soon his tiny coffee was ready. He downed it in two eager sips before leaving with his cup full of frozen water. 

Carrying precious and quickly melting cargo, he moved swiftly down the street to the glass door that led up to his office. It was a heavy door, and a few of the more important tenants had their names affixed next to it—his might be there someday. As he inserted his key, he could hear the bells strike five, a few blocks away.