It's Just a Penny

I was standing in line at Dunkin’ Donuts the other day for my billionth cup of coffee and when the man in front of me received his change, he dropped a penny. I said, “Excuse me sir, you dropped your penny,” and he shrugged and did that little flip of the wrist that says, “It doesn’t matter" (or in some cases says you're flamboyantly gay). What’s that about? Are you too good for the penny? It took at least another minute for his donut and coffee to arrive thus giving him plenty of time to pick it up and a little too much time to look like a jackass (in my opinion). After he walked away, I picked up the penny and put it in the tip jar.

I think there is a divide among people; those that pick up pennies and those that don’t. Separating these two groups even more are the reasons behind the decision to pick up or not to pick up. Maybe the man was embarrassed to publicly make it known that he needs a penny, that he is financially unstable. Maybe he thought that someone else deserved it and leaving it was his way of giving charity. Maybe he was Michael Jordan and mathematically speaking, it really wasn’t worth his time to pick up the penny (although I should hope I don’t think Jordan is a short white guy).

I will admit, for one reason or another, I don’t want people to see me picking up a penny, but damnit! it adds up. My boyfriend picks up every penny he sees…covered in sludge, stuck to the ground, he’s “picked up some scurvy pennies!” as he would say. When he gets inquisitive looks he tells people it’s for good luck.

I guess there’s nothing really to conclude about all this, I just thought I would share the observation and encourage you to pick up pennies, nobody is above it.

D.Riggs

Small Thing: My day (and my friend Timmy’s) can be made by reading the “Stars are Just Like Us” section in US Weekly. (“They make the call signal with their hand!”)

Pictures

Liz and Tony painting pottery at Glazed Expressions, one of the best ways to resort back to 10 year old behavior.


Todd with Yayo, called so because she's all white...I don't like that so I call her kitty.


At Blue Bayou after the Cubs game. Bree putting Moch in her place...Canadian style!

Up Before Noon!

I went down to the Chicago Board of Trade yesterday with my friend, Anne (who works there), to watch the opening. If you're ever looking to stand in a room of about 500 and be the only one who doesn't know what the hell is going on (and everyone knows it), I encourage you to visit the CBOT, just a hop, skip, and a jump downtown. It's kind of like Vegas; just replace the blinking lights with piercing profanities, and the various slots, tables, and general gambling machines with creepy old men. I’m not kidding, these men are the guys who sit at the end of my bar mumbling to themselves and I’m just counting the minutes until they leave (that’s mean) (I tend to preface or conclude sentences by saying “that’s mean” as if being aware of it makes it okay).

It’s such a funny spectacle that money makes. People running around wearing very tacky mesh trading vests, throwing paper, making hand signals, and using a preposterous amount of acronyms (and my boyfriend and dad are military guys so I’ve heard my fair share). Anne kept apologizing because it was apparently slow and boring to her, but I was completely sold on the opening bell (imagine “RINNNNGGG” and then massive amounts of shouting), that was the excitement of my week, well a close second to the dollar I found in my winter jacket.

Speaking of my uneventful, lazy life, my friend Kim was talking about how bad she felt because she was so tired at work during the day, so I told her that when I don’t get nine hours of sleep and an nap around 3:00ish, I’m pretty much worthless…that made her feel better…and me worse.

Ta Ta,

D.Riggs

Small Thing: Seeing a shooting star. It last likes 1/100th of a second and sometimes you’re not even sure you saw it, but it gives you this wonderful sense of smallness and bigness at the same time.