Rage-stroke cause #9,256,113: Exact change

A common retail scenario:

Cashier "4 gallons of organic, vegan, free-range lube....that'll be $18.73."
Customer "Oh, hold on a minute, I gots me some exact change. Um.....I gots a 50cent piece, a button, 3 nickels,  um, oh wait, I've got a lot of pennies here to get rid of......"

Hours pass.

"......um......ok, here's the 73cents!"

HOORAY! YOU MADE SOME EXACT MOTHERFUCKING CHANGE! May sweet baby Jesus anoint you with glory and accolades for such an auspicious event!

I know that most of us have worked crappy, cash-register centric retail jobs at one point or another, or work at one now, or will work at one in the future the next time the banks and politicians have another "Oooopsie! We done blowed up the economy again! Gimme a bailout!" episode. Here is a simple fact that should guide your actions when waiting in line to pay with actual American cash dollars.

Do not try to give exact change. Ever.
"But, but, but, but I've got a penny right here!" you might say.

Shut it. Keep it. Give it to a bum. Throw it away. Level a chair leg with it. Just keep it in your filthy pocket.

Why? Why am I being such a tyrannical towering turd about this?

99.999999% of the time, a customer will NEVER, EVER, EVER, EEEEEVVVVEEEERRRR be able to give exact change faster than the cashier is able to give the change back to you. Get it? You (yes you, yeah, really, you, numbnuts) are not exempt from this rule. I don't care if you're Rainman, or have coin-spewing machine lodged in your rectum. You will not beat the clock on this one. In fact, you will most likely be slow as hell, thus delaying the line, and significantly shorten the lives of those behind you who have the decency to pay via credit or debit card, or hand over cash and let the cashier make change, and of course, not take eons of time to write out a stupid check from the 1950's.

Keep.
The.
Change.

Grinding, ongoing annoyance: My father thinks all his stuff is collectible and worth a krazillion billion dollars

Christ.

Let me be clear (to quote that muslim/socialist/atheist/capitalist guy in the White House) - I love my father. There. I said it. He's a great guy in a Clint Eastwood-in-Gran Torino-but-not-as-psychotically-violent-way. But like you and I (well, more like you. I'm fucking perfect.), he has flaws. Lots. And some of his flaws have flaws. Basically, has a Flawcety McFlawster.

But, to review, I love him.

Here is a sappy-assed picture to further drive this point home.

(not really my father and I, just something off the google image smeller)

Awwww.....
 
You see, dear reader(s?) - my father hangs on to crap, chotchkies, momento's, trinkets, and all manner of old crap, in the fantasy/delusion that one day he will find that his toy car from 1977 is worth $900 million dollars. But, according to the cruel capitalist dominatrix that is Ebay, it's actually worth $1.53 + $9.00 shipping.

I have tried to explain this to him. However, he is 82. Apparently when you are 82, you generate a fact-proof shield that deflects all information that conflicts with your pre-ordained view that your dust-laden junk is worth a pile a cash. Me- "But Dearest Father, the Ebay machine says your book of collectible stamps from the 1940's is worth $8, so that's all you will get for it." Father - "Ok, son, start the bidding at $497.00! Will be richer than Croesus" Me- "Yes, father."

So what am I looking into selling for him now? His "collectible" old 78rpm records from god-knows-when-ago. He sent me some price information guides from 1991 (yes, 1991. You remember - Bush was President and we were invading Iraq. *rimshot* HAMMERTIME!)

Pics of the misery for your miseryfication.

Oh it gets better. Yep - date on the newspaper: 1991.

But who knows? After he sends me his hand-written list of records, there could be one gem in there worth nearly TENS of dollars.

I love my father.

Outrage of the Day: Customer-In-Training? Seriously? Jerks.

Have you seen this in your local super-market?

What the hell is this? Customer in training? Really? Are we new to capitalism, and exchanging money for goods and services? Yes, please train children from a young age all about this, because THEY WOULD CLEARLY NEVER PICK IT UP FROM OUR PERVASIVELY SHOPPING ORIENTED SOCIETY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!1!!!ONEWONWONWONONE!!!11!3-2=1

Plus, oh, I don't know, people get hungry and might like to not starve, so I'm pretty sure they would find the building full of food that can be purchased with real American cash dollars!

Ahem.

So, super-markets, kindly spare us the rolling obscenity that is the g_ddamned shopper-in-training carts.

Thank you, assholes.

Outrage of the day: WARNING: HIPSTER PROXIMITY ALARM!

Whilst loitering at a swank Clarendon coffee-hole. The following nerve-gratingly trendy trendster strolled in.
Yep, a hipster.
So, this whole trend is what, 5 or 6 years old now, at least? Budda on a fucking goat, when will this trend stop? WHEN?

Skinny jeans, womens blouses, scarves, dorky glasses. GET OFF MY LAWN YOU G-DDAMN KIDS!!!

Pick a different trend: dress like a NASA engineer from the early 60's, or the Amish. Whatever.

To recap: Hipsters fucking annoy me.

Outrage of the Day - the idiot driving behind me.

Today was a day for goddamn tailgaters. The prime example is the goat-felcher that tailgated me the last three blocks home, so he could shave off 3 seconds of drive-time. He lives in the townhome complex across the street from my condo complex. Hell, the same dog-humping condo/townhome extruder machine probably pooped out our buildings on the same damn day back in 1987 (Praise Reagan).

Glad you got home in time to get a jump on giving your dachshund its bikini wax, you clown.