It was a moderately chilly day. After an hour of chatting on the phone with my friend, I needed a snack. On my way to Dunkin’ Donut, I found a quarter. Yes, twenty-five unearned pennies. Thanks universe for free money! I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t need it. Still, I happily accepted it.
“Miss, you got change?” Dude, it’s 9 am on a Sunday. Shouldn’t you be in church trying to get your life together instead of harassing me? Without looking back, I mumble off the standard rejection. He tried again. “I’m sorry. I meant. Can you change this money?”
Lord, why do I keep entertaining these conmen? In hindsight, incidents like hugging and almost kissing a hobo is pretty hilarious. It’s never funny at the moment – only in hindsight. Before could utter another brush off, I came face-to-face with the most striking blue eyes on a black man.
I pieced together that he wanted a dollar bill in exchange for some coins. I assumed he needed bills for the bus ticketing machines. While I waited for him to hand over his coins – I already gave him the dollar – I convinced myself that nice eyes equaled nice character. My open palm waited for reciprocation.
His request changed. “Do you have twenty? I have more change.” My hash browns were getting cold. I wanted to move on with my life. Did he think I was a walking currency exchange? Sigh. I was too close to locking in those karma points. I searched my wallet for cash but found I was three dollars short. “Oh, what I meant was can you give me enough change so that I can make a twenty?”
Scammer! My dollar in his right hand. His coins (technically my coins) in his left. He confessed that his money only totaled to about sixty-five cents. “You cool with that?”
Nah, I was not cool with being shorted thirty-five cents! The scrubbery of it all! (#NoScrubsClub)
Should I attempt snatching my dollar or just walk away? He was close enough for me to grab him by the collar. I was also close enough to be pistol-whipped. Honestly, one hundred pennies was not worth getting beaten up and possibly having my breakfast stolen.
A standoff. Averted gaze. Somehow he’d done a Micheal Jackson and very stealthy moonwalked away. Curse you blue-eye, shiesty, currency exchange scammer. If only I hadn’t been selfish and just given him the universe’s quarter. I’d still have my dollar and my breakfast would have been warm.
Months later we I spotted him near the same Dunkin’ Donut. His eyes were still blue, but he was a certified junkie. Matted hair, a stained coat, and body odor so strong I doubt any females cared to bankroll his lifestyle. He wasted his good looks. I guess he needed that money more than me.
“Miss, you got change?” Dude, it’s 9 am on a Sunday. Shouldn’t you be in church trying to get your life together instead of harassing me? Without looking back, I mumble off the standard rejection. He tried again. “I’m sorry. I meant. Can you change this money?”
Lord, why do I keep entertaining these conmen? In hindsight, incidents like hugging and almost kissing a hobo is pretty hilarious. It’s never funny at the moment – only in hindsight. Before could utter another brush off, I came face-to-face with the most striking blue eyes on a black man.
I pieced together that he wanted a dollar bill in exchange for some coins. I assumed he needed bills for the bus ticketing machines. While I waited for him to hand over his coins – I already gave him the dollar – I convinced myself that nice eyes equaled nice character. My open palm waited for reciprocation.
His request changed. “Do you have twenty? I have more change.” My hash browns were getting cold. I wanted to move on with my life. Did he think I was a walking currency exchange? Sigh. I was too close to locking in those karma points. I searched my wallet for cash but found I was three dollars short. “Oh, what I meant was can you give me enough change so that I can make a twenty?”
Scammer! My dollar in his right hand. His coins (technically my coins) in his left. He confessed that his money only totaled to about sixty-five cents. “You cool with that?”
Nah, I was not cool with being shorted thirty-five cents! The scrubbery of it all! (#NoScrubsClub)
Should I attempt snatching my dollar or just walk away? He was close enough for me to grab him by the collar. I was also close enough to be pistol-whipped. Honestly, one hundred pennies was not worth getting beaten up and possibly having my breakfast stolen.
A standoff. Averted gaze. Somehow he’d done a Micheal Jackson and very stealthy moonwalked away. Curse you blue-eye, shiesty, currency exchange scammer. If only I hadn’t been selfish and just given him the universe’s quarter. I’d still have my dollar and my breakfast would have been warm.
Months later we I spotted him near the same Dunkin’ Donut. His eyes were still blue, but he was a certified junkie. Matted hair, a stained coat, and body odor so strong I doubt any females cared to bankroll his lifestyle. He wasted his good looks. I guess he needed that money more than me.
Created on St. Maarten. Based in Chicago. Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) writes, says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. Originally published in The Daily Herald's Weekender, Just Being Funny is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life.
