I located a toaster.

The other day at work, a woman was practically howling in the electronics section––I could hear her from where I was sorting books in the back. 

I don't know if she was high, or what, but she was in high dudgeon that we were out of toasters. (There are often three or four, but they sell fast.)

"You don't have ANY toasters?!?! I have to have toast!
I eat toast EVERY MORNING. I came all this way for a TOASTER!!!"

Mr Furniture pointed out a toaster oven, which makes toast.

"SIX NINETY-NINE??? I don't have $6.99!!! And I have to have TOAST!"

I like toast myself. 
I went to the electronics donations-sorting area, where no one is assigned because the guy who... ––no, never mind––
and I dug up the one toaster there, complete with crumbs.
(People donate electronics in the gunkiest conditions.)

I plugged it in to make sure it worked (it did––toasters usually do), and went and found the woman, who was wandering around, still talking about toast.

"I found you a toaster," I said. "You'll have to wash it up, but..."

She acted like it was a miracle. "YOU FOUND A TOASTER!!!"

"Three ninety-nine," I said, our standard toaster price.

"How bout two ninety-nine?" she said, with a coquettish tilt of the head. "I don't have much money, and I need my toast. If I don't start my day with toast..."

I guess she hadn't started that day with toast.
"Fine," I said. "Two ninety-nine."

That was a good day at work.

Image: The Brave Little Toaster, 1987