A few years ago, someone at my job got married. Her name was Aleta, though I'm not sure if I'm spelling it correctly. As was customary for people getting married, the office got her a card and we took up a collection, ending up with $500. The Friday before her wedding, we shared cake and gave her the gift. On Monday, she called in to quit. That was the last time we took up a collection for anyone getting married.
This morning, we had a breakfast in honor of my wedding. Though there was nothing chocolate-filled. chocolate-covered, or chocolate-encased, it was fine.
When I got back to my desk, the head of one of our (only) revenue-producing lines came over, congratulated me, and gave me a card from him and his family. Even though we're worked together for eight years, we don't talk much except to exchange daily and/or bitch about the company. Very nice of him, I thought. Then I opened up the card.
Inside were twenty-five twenties.