Cats Compensate Change

No, I'm not dripping with diamonds and pearls. And no, I'm not begging on the streets. Though, I might as well have been that day in early August. I was dripping in change.

I was planning to go to the Strand Bookstore, to buy Middlesex and a comic book for Cassidy. I was also going to go meet my friend, who likes cats. I lost track of time and realized I was running a litter late. (Pun intended). I threw on my shoes, grabbed my phone, a jacket, and looked inside my wallet.

Empty.

I had been gone for a month and a half and forgot that I brought all my money with me, only to be spent on a cheap ring, and a lot of chocolate milk. Oh, and an Arizona Iced tea in Arizona. I know, I know, actually the coolest thing. Anyway, there I was, running late, home alone, poor as a chicken.

So of course I called my mom. But neither my mom nor dad had any money around the house for me to use on books. I, at that point most likely on the floor crying to myself, all of a sudden was hit with an idea.

The bucket.
Or buckets,
of random change throughout the house.

I went scavenging throughout the apartment and eventually found seven dollar bills, an assortment of quarters, dimes, and nickels.

So there I was, running through the streets, sounding and looking quite homeless, with a mesmerized smirk on my face.

I took the subway
I found the Strand
I entered the Strand
I found the books
I got in line
I got to the cashier
I realized how painfully hilarious my next move had to be

"I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to pay for these books with change..."

She gave me a blank stare that reminded me of my cousin who is somewhat notorious for that.

"I counted it though. It amounts to $32.76."

Another blank stare. She counted the seven dollars and picked up a quarter.

That's when I started making comments like

"I'm so sorry about this, really I am"

"Oh wow sorry"

"Heh"

The long line seemed to be growling at me

She kept counting and I kept fidgeting with my wallet. Then I started to fidget with my notebook. Aha, yes a solution, I could give her a cute little postcard!

In my notebook I kept a stack of memorabilia from my trip. So, I started shuffling through it. There was one with an old man on it adorned with bright colors and a toothy grin. Above him read the words WE WANT YOU! FOR SHROOMFEST!

Aha, no.

The next was a picture of a cat. It was a delicate illustration on yellowing paper with pencil. I observed the scene. Here I was, watching as the cashier counted my change, holding a picture of a cat and contemplating whether or not I should give it to her.

I waited.
I was five cents short. I added a few more awkward "ehh, ah, oh, yea, that's all the money I have..."

She let it slide. Didn't say anything though. Gave me another blank stare.

I don't know what it was, or why I didn't do it, but I left the store with the picture of the cat in my hands.

I ended up giving it to my friend.