A Bad Influence?

As much as I appreciate cute purses, I don’t always like to use them. Such was the case this last weekend when I went to Utah to eat turkey and be thankful. Since I was forgoing a purse, each time I went out somewhere, I’d grab a credit card, my driver’s license, a $20 bill, and my cell phone. With both hands and shoulders free from encumbrance, I was free to roam about.

It’s become a bit of a tradition for my niece and I to go to Gardner Village the day after Thanksgiving. While the crazies are fighting over $12 plasma televisions, it’s lovely to stroll around the little shops and admire the Christmas decorations. And, at some point each year, we stop at the bakery—usually for lunch. But, since we’d gotten off to a rather late start with breakfast around noon, we opted out of lunch and decided on a quick snack before concluding our trip into quaintness. My whopping bill came to $2.64, so I decided to pay with cash. When I paid, the clerk handed me change from $10.

Me: “Umm, I gave you a twenty.”
Clerk: “I’m so sorry. That’s the second
time I’ve done that today.”
Me: “No problem.”

The clerk then handed me a $10 bill.

Later that evening, I was emptying my pockets and getting settled at my friend’s house, when I discovered I had too much cash. (Not a problem to which I am accustomed.) Ten dollars too much to be precise. It appears that in my excitement over snack time, I had completely forgotten that I had broken my $20 at breakfast that day, and had indeed paid for my snack with a $10 bill.

I always thought that when I turned to a life of crime, it would be big and splashy and earn me one of those two-hour specials on a primetime news magazine. If I’m going down, I may as well make it worth it. Turns out my scandalous nature looks a whole lot like senility and not so much like the work of a criminal mastermind.