#1000 - Thinking you have exact change...

When I was six, I remember walking to the local supermarket with my parents and feeling very proud.  It was the day I was going to buy my own candy with the money I had saved up in my piggy bank.  This was my biggest ticket purchase to date as a human being - so a pretty big fucking deal at the time.  With the $1.99 of quarters, dimes, nickels and more pennies than you can find in a wishing fountain, I skipped to the market, albeit weighed down heavily with the two pocketfuls of change.

After strolling confidently down the candy aisle, picking up the box of Fruit by the Foot and placing it behind my own groceries divider at the cash register, I learned quickly what disappointment felt like...and also an important lesson about taxes.  See, in Canada (at the time) there was 7% government tax on such products like candy.  My $1.99 purchase turned out to be $2.13 - not having the extra $0.14 and Asian parents that didn't believe in rewarding stupidity, I had to march back to the candy aisle with the box of candy, and hold back the tears, in fear of being scolded by the same cruel parents that thought this was the best time to teach their son an important life lesson about financial responsibility.

I wish I could say that that lesson stuck with me, but exact change has let me down time and time again.  Coins are fucking annoying, and there's nothing better than that feeling of being able to get rid of those meaningless copper discs that are turning green from oxidation and staining the insides of your pockets of that pair of pants you love.

Coins.  Useless, useless coins.

What's even worse is when you think you have exact change but then you're forced to break a large bill because alas, you were fucked over by one or two cents difference, and the cashier is unrelenting in keeping her till synced with her receipts.  You know what I mean, that look that you give them, the deep sigh you release hinting that you don't have enough change, and if they really don't get the message, being more direct by saying, "Shit, I'm just one cent off."

If anything, a deep sigh should also be given to that asshole cashier who can't look the other way when you're just a penny short.  Whatever, all I have to say is karma, bitch, karma.

And if breaking the big bill isn't annoying enough, the final coup de grace comes when you get MORE change back from the cashier and she smirks knowing you didn't want the fucking coins in the first place.  Now, all you can do walk away serenaded by the clink of the coins as they shift around in your new ball sack of a pocket.

DEEP SIGH.