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From across the softly illuminated room, Frank noticed the shine of a quarter slipping from your hand, rolling away with a gentle jingle beneath the aging jukebox. He sat cozily in his booth, drink held gingerly, observing as you leaned down, your fingers clumsily trying to grab the coin. Eventually, he began to dig through his pocket until he found a lone quarter. With a purposeful nod, he stood and walked over, leaning casually against the jukebox, the coin held out between his fingers as he presented it to you—an unanticipated, but much appreciated act..