The check's (not) in the mail

Today I made a soda delivery to the most rural outpost I have. (The nearest town of any size-- tiny-- is a good 5 miles away!) Needless to say, being this far removed from civilization, the store owner is a bit detached from reality. The gulf between his brain and the world is widening week-by-week.
After dropping off the goods, he paid me with a check, as per usual. What was unusual, however, was his next question. "Do you have a check for me?"
I thought this was just a poor attempt at a lame joke, until I studied his face. He was dead serious. "Nnnnnoooooo...," I answered guardedly.
Puzzled, the owner jabbed, "I'm owed $93. I was told you'd have a check for me."
"No, sorry, I don't," I affirmed.
Not willing to give up, Mr. Woodsy stated, "I was told the girls in the business office were going to hand you a check to give to me."
My patience was wearing thin, but I politely voiced, "Sorry, but I don't see the girls in the morning. They don't come into the office until 8:00, and I'm always gone by 6:30."
Randy of the Redwoods either wasn't listening, or was ignoring me altogether. "Well, why would they tell me that they would hand the check personally to you??"
Enough was enough. "I don't know who told you what," I spoke firmly, "but I don't see anyone from the business office in the morning. If you'd like to call the office--"
Interrupting me, he interrogated, "Are you sure you don't have a check?"
WHAT???

No, that's right, I did have it, but I spent it at Kmart earlier this morning, stockpiling on Aleve! Hmm... My head's hurting now. A LOT. I think I'll go pop a few dozen.