Miss Lemon if you’re nasty.
August 11, 2008
This morning I had to park somewhere else because something is filming and all the slots were full. The lot where I had to park charges you, and so I had to give the attendant five dollars.
Unfortunately, I had two dollars. And after frantically digging through my purse for a while, I came up with three additional dollars in change.
SMALL change. We’re not talking your glamorous quarters here. It was pretty much nickels and dimes all the way through, with a small burst of pennies at the end.
I handed it to the guy all apologetically, “I’m sorry, this is all I have! But I counted it out, and it’s right.”
AND THE GUY GETS ALL HUFFY. You know, like I’m holding out on him, refusing to use the five-dollar-bill dispensing ATM I recently had installed in my car, just to be a dick.
“I can’t deposit this!”
Which unfortunately activates this part of my brain:
“Actually, that handful of nickels is LEGAL TENDER FOR ALL DEBTS, PUBLIC AND PRIVATE.”
(I didn’t yell. But I did think things like “Um, if I want to pay you in FIVE HUNDRED PENNIES, you know, THIS IS AMERICA! We have the freedom to pay in annoying ways!” and “WE CAN CALL THE TREASURY IF YOU ARE UNCLEAR ON HOW THIS SYSTEM WORKS” and “If you’re waiting for a return the gold standard, we’re gonna be here ALL MORNING.”)
I felt like 30 Rock’s Liz Lemon in that episode where she pays for a bottle of water with a hundred-dollar bill and the guy is all “You’re holding up the line!” and then she’s all “No, YOU’RE holding up the line!”
(…except for me it didn’t culminate in finding love with a suspiciously handsome MSNBC staffer/my cousin but instead in Parking Guy glaring at me and sighing a lot. Alas.)