TIME FOR CHANGE

I believe in change as much as the next person. I believe in change so much that I have an old pickle jar in my home office filled with quarters, nickels, dimes and pennies. Also, some golf tees, safety pins, and wintergreen Lifesavers.

When I was a kid, I saved the very same way.  The thrill of this incremental approach never wore off for me. Well, not until recently. That container in my office has held the nest egg of the past 18 months, about $200.00, I estimated, which translated into a nice infusion of cash for the vacation my wife and I are planning for our upcoming trip to Iceland. I took the sealed jar into my bank, hugging it tightly. I assumed the friendly teller would toss my hard-earned change into a high-tech coin counter and then sweeten my bank account with this windfall. Instead, I got the bad news. “Sorry, Dick, we no longer count change that way.”

“Whatya mean you don’t count change that way?” I said. “You’re a bank. How could you not count my money?” Then I started waving my arms in the air like Jerry Seinfeld when he was informed that the rental company did not have a car for him even though he had a reservation.

I went to another bank.

“Mr. Wolfsie, we can count this for you, but we’ll have to subtract three percent from your deposit for administrative costs. You know, wear and tear on our counting machine.”

“Wait a second. You’re going to charge customers to count their own money that they will put in your bank.  Are your customers that dumb?”

“Apparently. That’s why it’s called chump change.”

I told my wife about the problem and she suggested that we have the young man across the street count it, put it in rolls, and we’d give him 2 percent of the total, a savings of several dollars over the bank’s fee. Okay, a couple of dollars.”

“They’re not going to take the word of just some kid in our neighborhood,” said Mary Ellen.

“Well, they don’t know what an honest young man he is. His mom said he got an A in math and citizenship.”

At this point, I just dumped the money on the carpet and started adding it all up. An hour later, I’d calculated a total of $232.50. Now, I knew exactly how much change I had, but I was in the identical predicament I was in before I counted it. Nobody wanted my change. Of course, Kroger would take it, but their machine has a seven percent charge. And it’s right next to the lottery ticket machine, so I seldom walk out of there ahead of the game.

Then, I wondered if I could sell the money on Craigslist or eBay. But how would I word the ad?

                                                  FOR SALE: ABOUT 200 DOLLARS IN CHANGE

                                                            $178.00 or Best Offer.

                                             Some scratches, but worth every penny.

                                                             Hand counted.

                                                    (CASH ONLY PLEASE, NO COINS)    

I spent the better part of one afternoon investigating several other bank branches. It was a lost cause, and I was tired of toting around a 20-pound jar of coins.

And to make matters worse, I got a parking ticket. The meter had expired.