edited: Wednesday, September 07, 2011
By Becky Ayers
Rated "G" by the Author.
Posted: Wednesday, September 07, 2011
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Most people don't even think about how disgusting money is.
Our society would come to a screeching halt without it and some people can’t seem to get enough. The question is, do you realize how disgusting it truly is?
When I was a little girl, I remember finding assorted change throughout my home and scrambling to my bedroom to drop it into my pink ceramic piggy bank that sat upon my dresser.
I loved the sound of the coins bouncing across others as I dropped them in and reveled in picking it up and shaking it proudly. I just knew that if I filled it up to the top I would be rich! Rich I tell you! But alas, that never happened. Sadly enough piggy hit the terrazzo floor one day as I shook him with pleasure.
As I became old enough to trot around our small town, I found that bottle collecting was a great source of making my stash of change grow. I checked behind every store I could find for those sometime half full bottles of bubbly delight that people so rudely tossed in the grass along the side of the road.
Growing up in a middle class family, we weren’t given allowances. Instead we found ourselves looking for anyway possible to gain some money for that all important baseball card or dime store ring we wanted so badly.
But one day when I was about fifteen years old, I turned in some bottles to a local store. The old man took the bag of bottles and started counting them out as I smiled. Then it happened. The event that caused me to give up on my bottle search, my stash of change, my whole outlook on money.
As the man went through the last few bottles in the bag, he sneezed. And I don’t mean one of those anal retentive type sneezes. I mean the man covered his hand with the nastiest stuff I have ever seen and proceeded to wipe said substance onto his pant leg as he reached into the register till with the other hand. Now if that wasn’t bad enough, he passed the change from his clean hand into the filthy one and tried to hand it to me. I have to tell you that I couldn’t get out of the door fast enough. “The hell with the money!” I thought to myself.
Anyway, my point is this. I don’t care if your change is shiny and your bills are still crisp, they have more than likely passed through some disgusting hands.