Two crisp, clean, brand new dollar bills lay neatly in his wallet. He could see two George Washingtons smirking at him, laughing at his misfortune.
Two dollars was not enough. He needed more, more than he had ever needed anything before. Could there be more, lying around, hidden treasures in his own home?
He rushed to the bedroom, his hand searching desperately across the tops of the dresser, the nightstand. There, underneath the lamp beside his bed, some change! A quarter, three nickels, two dimes and a handful of pennies. Twelve, to be exact. Let’s see, how much was that?
Seventy-two cents. Seventy-two stinking cents. He was still a buck ninety short.
In desperation he flung the cushions from the couch in the living room, feeling around desperately for change. There must be more change! And there was: five more quarters, a bunch of pennies, some more nickels and dimes. He laid it all out before him on the counter, stacking it into neat piles based on each coin type. As he laid them out he prayed under his breath.
“Please be enough.”
Then it was done. Two dollar bills from his wallet. A buck fifty in quarters. Add in the nickels, dimes and pennies it all came out to…
Four dollars and thirty seven cents.
Four dollars and thirty seven Goddamn cents.
He fell back into the sofa, staring up into the ceiling. He needed options. He needed to think. What was he going to do?
He needed twenty-five cents. A quarter would do it.
His pockets were empty. He returned to the bedroom, digging through the pile of dirty clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, poring through the pockets of each. Maybe, just maybe he could…
There it was! A quarter! Triumphantly he rushed back into the living room, placed the quarter in its appropriate stack, counted again to make sure his math was correct.
Four sixty-two. He’d done it.
* * *
“Can I get a pack of Mavericks, full flavor?” He asked the bored looking man behind the counter.
“Sure thing, sir. That’ll be four dollars and sixty-two cents.”