”Do you have a Duane Reade Club Card?
”Uh, no.”
”The total comes to $10.11.”
”OK. Here you go.”
(eleven dollars is handed over)
”You don’t have eleven cents?”
”No, I actually have eleven cents right here in my pocket. I just want to hold onto it because eleven cents is so worthwhile. I’m saving it for an eleven cent purchase. Plus, I want to get an extra eighty-nine cents to hang onto because coins are so much more convenient than paper money. I’d much, much rather have all my money in coins. You know, for the sake of convenience. Oh and please, please give me that miffed look like I’ve broken some part of the social contract that dictates I as an individual have to have exact change. After all, it would be silly to think that a chain of drugstores could get well enough organized so as to supply their cashiers with a sufficient amount of change. That would be a pretty ridiculous idea. So I get my eighty-nine cents in dimes and pennies? Wonderful! Brilliant. That’s seventeen more coins I get to carry around with me in addition to the dime and a penny that I already had. Aren’t I a lucky duck! Yippee! I hope you don’t mind if I skip merrily out your door in glee.”
”Jerks.”