Kaminski was used to people underestimating him. It still pissed him off when it happened, but he was used to it.
The size of the check, however, and the key phrase "six months from now" jolted the atrophied part of Kaminski's brain that processed happiness, and his smoldering resentment for the man sitting across from him mellowed into a chipper little spark.
He actually smiled as he pulled out his receipt book. "Sounds great, actually." He uncapped his pen and started scribbling in the columns. "For the record, I don't think you were being polite any more than you were trying to be my drinking buddy. Considering the size of the check you just wrote I'm not going to venture a guess as to what you were doing, but hey, you know, it takes all kinds. You just gotta be you, man."
Kaminski considered for half a second, then pulled a sheet of stickers out of his bag - one of the other employees at the center was going to pass them out to the kids until Kaminski firmly shook his head and asked the man if he was trying to get punched in the balls - and affixed the receipt with a sunglass-wearing, backwards baseball cap smiley face riding a skateboard and shouting "Radical!"
He quickly exchanged the receipt for the check, tucked everything to his bag, and stood up. "By the way, not that I'm trying to be drinking buddies or anything, but next time we have to do this in a place that serves alcohol. I'll even buy you an Asti," he said as he walked out of the Starbucks. Off to drop off the check, and then straight to the bar.
He was still pretty sure that "Asti" was some kind of malt beverage.