Moving makes me lose my mind
Moving mania is in full swing. Boxes, suitcases and plastic bags as far as the eye can see. Why in the world do I own more than twenty pairs of shoes? How many little boxes does one actually need? I know it's good to be organized, but did I really need to organize all my philosophy notes by author and then arrange them in alphabetical order? Don't worry, you don't need to answer any of these questions.
In the midst of all this, I zoom in on my penny-jar. I've been collecting all my pennies for the past two years for the sole purpose of taking them to the bank at some point and finding myself with an obscene amount of cash. Dude! Why didn't anyone stop me? Anyway. Today was THE DAY in which I took my penny-jar to the bank. I went up to the cashier, big smiles and all, to become a part of the following conversation:
Me: Hello, I have a lot of pennies. I would like to exchange them for dollar bills.
Cashier: That's great.
Me (placing my penny-jar on the counter while still grinning like a mad-woman): Here they are.
Cashier: Oh! I can't accept them like this.
Me: What's wrong with my pennies?
Cashier: We only take them if they are in paper rolls.
Me: Paper what?!
Cashier: Paper rolls. Here, I'll give you some and you can sit at that table over there and put your pennies in the rolls.
Me: You've got to be kidding me. Do you see how many I've got?
Cashier: Do you want the paper rolls or not?
Me: Aaaaahlright.
I proceed to the table where I spend the next 45 minutes placing pennies in paper rolls. They have little machines for that, you know? And do you know why? Because it's FUCKING BORING!!! And takes FOR-EVER!!! And when you do it by hand, people in the bank stare at you like you've lost your mind. And they are probably right, because by the time you've put all your pennies in the fucking paper rolls, you realize that in the past two years you've saved the banging amount of 4 dollars and fifty cents. God damn! How am I going to spend all this money?!
Me: Here are all my pennies, in their rolls.
Cashier: Let me take this to the scales.
Me: Scales? What scales?
Cashier: I have to weigh them to make sure that you have the exact number of pennies in each roll. You need to have 50 pennies in each roll.
Me: But you didn't tell me that!
Cashier: Everybody knows that a roll of pennies contains 50 coins.
Me: I DIDN'T know that. I'm not American.
I admit that the whole "I'm not American" thing was totally below the belt. My being a foreigner stopped being a legitimate excuse at the end of my sophomore year in college, back in 2001. You can't claim ignorance if you've lived in the country for close to 7 years, you know. But it's my go-to line when I feel stuck and can sense that I'm about to lose it. It helped me get away with an overdrawn check to IRS once! Not this time though.
Cashier (weighs my rolls of pennies): I'm sorry, I can't take them.
Me: Why?
Cashier: They're too heavy. You've got more than 50 cents in each roll.
Me: That's ok, I don't care. Take it! That would count as profit for your bank, wouldn't it!
Cashier: I'm sorry.
***
Do I even need to try and dissect what just happened?! I am a fucking moron.
In the midst of all this, I zoom in on my penny-jar. I've been collecting all my pennies for the past two years for the sole purpose of taking them to the bank at some point and finding myself with an obscene amount of cash. Dude! Why didn't anyone stop me? Anyway. Today was THE DAY in which I took my penny-jar to the bank. I went up to the cashier, big smiles and all, to become a part of the following conversation:
Me: Hello, I have a lot of pennies. I would like to exchange them for dollar bills.
Cashier: That's great.
Me (placing my penny-jar on the counter while still grinning like a mad-woman): Here they are.
Cashier: Oh! I can't accept them like this.
Me: What's wrong with my pennies?
Cashier: We only take them if they are in paper rolls.
Me: Paper what?!
Cashier: Paper rolls. Here, I'll give you some and you can sit at that table over there and put your pennies in the rolls.
Me: You've got to be kidding me. Do you see how many I've got?
Cashier: Do you want the paper rolls or not?
Me: Aaaaahlright.
I proceed to the table where I spend the next 45 minutes placing pennies in paper rolls. They have little machines for that, you know? And do you know why? Because it's FUCKING BORING!!! And takes FOR-EVER!!! And when you do it by hand, people in the bank stare at you like you've lost your mind. And they are probably right, because by the time you've put all your pennies in the fucking paper rolls, you realize that in the past two years you've saved the banging amount of 4 dollars and fifty cents. God damn! How am I going to spend all this money?!
Me: Here are all my pennies, in their rolls.
Cashier: Let me take this to the scales.
Me: Scales? What scales?
Cashier: I have to weigh them to make sure that you have the exact number of pennies in each roll. You need to have 50 pennies in each roll.
Me: But you didn't tell me that!
Cashier: Everybody knows that a roll of pennies contains 50 coins.
Me: I DIDN'T know that. I'm not American.
I admit that the whole "I'm not American" thing was totally below the belt. My being a foreigner stopped being a legitimate excuse at the end of my sophomore year in college, back in 2001. You can't claim ignorance if you've lived in the country for close to 7 years, you know. But it's my go-to line when I feel stuck and can sense that I'm about to lose it. It helped me get away with an overdrawn check to IRS once! Not this time though.
Cashier (weighs my rolls of pennies): I'm sorry, I can't take them.
Me: Why?
Cashier: They're too heavy. You've got more than 50 cents in each roll.
Me: That's ok, I don't care. Take it! That would count as profit for your bank, wouldn't it!
Cashier: I'm sorry.
***
Do I even need to try and dissect what just happened?! I am a fucking moron.
8 Comments:
That's really weird. Most banks just toss change into one of those automatic sorting machines. The rolls were necessary before the new machines, but, as of about 1990, every bank I've ever been to won't even take coins in rolls because they just have to rip them open and dump them into the machine anyway.
In fact, I still remember the day when my little 8-year-old self proudly walked into the bank with a bunch of rolls of pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters from the last year, only to have the teller tell me that they couldn't take them in rolls because they'd just got a new sorting machine that took loose change. I can tell you I was a sad little kid as I sat there ripping open the rolls it had taken me two hours to organize.
Well, YOU have been to State College, the geographical center of the Great state of Pennsylvania. Don't you remember how cosmopolitan and technologically advanced the place is?! The image of a younger version of you, with your rolls of change, puts a big smile on my face :)
Now you know where all those elementary ed majors get jobs - at least, the ones who aren't teaching our kids.
What's your plan now that you're a master of political science? Moving back home?
I recall taking my PhD comps - which they gave as an oral since I was the only one taking them that year. Couldn't sleep, so I spent the night in my office reviewing until about 4 am, when I went to the Penn State Diner to charge up my blood sugar with a grilled sticky. It had a strange, calming, Ritalin-like effect :-) and I actually passed.
You are right, actually. It's a long story with many twists and turns, but yeah, I am going back to Bulgaria. Have an awesome job and all that. Will probably right about it when I get a chance and don't have pennies on my mind.
In which program did you do your PhD? I feel like you've told me before but I can't remember.
ho ho :) and a bottle of rum, i might add. you've had your little breeze of insanity. when i was little i couldn't keep money...well, i still can't :) but back then we usually spend all the small coins (by the tons of them) to buy banichki or stuff like that :) or even better - ice cream! :)
I'm the same way: super bad with money. This was my attempt at saving. And it failed.
I was in the Astronomy PhD program back in the early 80s. Didn't finish - passed comps and never completed my dissertation. Well, actually, I published my dissertation before I turned it in and they got kinda pissy about not having unpublished material. C'est la vie...
If you're going back to Sofia, maybe we'll see you there next time we get a chance to visit. I have a good musician friend there, and her American boyfriend just moved over there a few weeks ago, so visiting again isn't out of the question.
Wow! I never thought that publishing an academic piece prior to your dissertation defense would be frowned upon. Ah the wonders of academia!
I will be in Bulgaria starting June 15. We should definitely stay in touch! I would love to meet you in person when you come to Bulgaria.
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