Hello everyone:
This might seem like a bit of a strange story, but please stay with me. For the first 36 years of my marriage, my ex-husband dumped his change into containers when he got home from work each night. He hated to keep change in his pocket and couldn’t see the point of having it clunking around. So, when I bought large containers of tasteless animal crackers or huge plastic bottles of cheese balls, I saved the empties for him.
When we went our separate ways, he told me that anything I didn’t take was going to the dump. I assumed that the multiple containers filled with coins was included in that pronouncement, so I took them. (They were very, very heavy, so I needed help to lift them. Fortunately, I had friends with me, so we were able to transfer them into my car.)
I brought them to my new home and promptly forgot about them. Until I started cleaning out my master bedroom closet. What was this? And this? And this? Oh. Bottles and bottles of coins. Since there was no way I could take them in a jug to the local grocery store (or anywhere else, for that matter), I bagged the coins into Ziplock sandwich bags and put them in my car.
Every time I go grocery shopping or to another place (like Walmart or Home Depot) where I need something and they have self-checkouts, I put a baggie in my purse and pay for my purchases that way. (Note that this makes my purse so heavy that I have to throw it up on my cart and take it around the store that way.)
This has led to some interesting conversations with the folks who monitor the self-checkout lanes. After I explain what I’m doing and why I don’t dump the coins into those machines that give gift cards for your change (they take a percentage of your money and I don’t want to share!), they’re fine with my using coins to pay. My record for getting through the checkout with the least amount of donation from me is getting $38.40 worth of groceries for 67 cents. Thank you, ex-hubby.
So, the other day I was feeding the coins into the machine when a lady came up to me (I was a white-haired gal dressed in casual clothes) and handed me a five-dollar bill. She said, “Here. Put this in. I want to help you.” I said, “What?” She repeated that she wanted to help me buy my groceries. I told her what I have just told you and turned her down. (For the record, I did thank her for her kindness.)
It turned out that she had her own ex-hubby story, so we had a great time of fellowship. She went on her way, with her five-dollar bill safely in her purse. I saw her on my way out and reported to her that I had gotten $38.40 worth of groceries for $3.65. We both had a lovely day.
Best,
Dr. Sheri
P.S. After five and a half months of shopping on my ex-husband’s dime (literally), the change is pretty much kaput, except for a couple of dollars’ worth of pennies. Many places won’t accept pennies anymore, so it’s going to be a bit of a challenge getting rid of them.