The Two-Centimeter Demon by Issac Asimov

“That’s the story,” said George, as he scooped up the change
the waiter had brought, and copied down the total from the
credit-card receipt (so that he might take it off as a tax-deduc-
tion, I assume). “If I were you,” he added. “I would leave a
generous tip.”
I did so, rather in a daze, as George smiled and walked away.
I didn’t really mind the loss of the change. It occurred to me
that George got only a meal, whereas I had a story I could tell as
my own and which would earn me many times the cost of the
meal.
In fact, I decided to continue having dinner with him now and
then.

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