shoup house: I think I have a problem. (revised)

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Monday, January 17, 2005

I think I have a problem. (revised)
Today I noticed that I have developed an abnormally strong libidinal attachment to 10 dollar bills. It's sad, I know, to be fond of money. But it's not the value of the 10 that I find irresistible; it is its exoticness.

Recently, at work, when a person has given me a 10, I've tried to explain this misplaced love-of-10s to that person and tell that person how pleased I am that he or she has given me a 10 but he/she always gives me an odd look and then I end up stumbling over my words in an attempt to sound sane and not ridiculously deprived from any legitimate stimulation.

Why God? Why does Meg love 10s?

God: Please inform.

Meg: It's a bizarre attraction reminiscent of my peculiar childhood affection for milkweed seeds (I kept three seeds as pets in a drawer in my room). I do not love the 10 dollar bill because it curiously animated like the milkweed. No, I love it because it's a rarity.

Remember last week when I was mad at 20s? No one ever gets 10s out of ATMs anymore because ATMs no longer offer them. So everyone comes into the coffee shop with a pocket full of 20s and orders a medium latte which costs 3.65 (tax included). So the change I give almost every person in the store is $16.35. This requires a 10, a 5, a 1, a quarter, and dime. No one ever gives me a 10 for a medium latte. I'll get the occasional person who has a 5er handy from a previous purchase, but hardly anyone ever has a 10. So you can see how quickly my little supply of 10s in the drawer runs out (assuming there were any 10s to begin with).

And so it happens that when someone presents me with a 10 I get a little giddy. I savor that 10 and I'm always hesitant to give it up. Today I acquired a little collection of 10s. I had about 6 or so and I was practically jumping out of my pants. When I realized how many I had, I noticed that I was developing an attachment to these 10s. Almost a feeling of ownership. As if I had earned these 10s. I really really wanted to keep them in the drawer - just to look at, you know. Like a little treat. Why should any one else have these hallowed bills. My Precious. So I started giving people three 5ers instead of a 10 and a 5. Eventually the feelings subsided and I relinquished the 10s to several innocent customers who were unaware of the injuries their 20s were inflicting upon my dejected heart.

This love affair with 10 has done little to decrease my hatred of people who regularly carry 20s. These people have too much money and they carelessly deplete my precious pile of 10-dollar bills.

Damn you 20 for taking away my beloved 10.
posted by meg @ 4:54 PM

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