Debit Cards

I am grumpy. My coffee was delayed this morning. Maybe it's this diet of ice cubes and Milk of Magnesia that I am on, but I need to vent.

Earlier this month I was blogging about how I do not embrace change. I think I said I am against change. In fact, I hate change. Quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies, they all piss me off. Every day I stand in line to buy coffee or lunch while some jack ass pays with cash and digs through their pockets or purse looking for a god damn coin. After a minute or two of digging they finally find some lint covered penny and hand it off to the clerk with this proud look on their face like they did something good like a two year old in the middle of getting potty trained.

What is fact has happened is this:

• You have slowed down, inconvenienced, and annoyed everyone in line behind you. We all hate you now. Are you a Virgo or something?
• The clerk rang in the $20 bill for the $1.87 you are spending. The cash register tells them exactly what change they are supposed to give you. Now they have to stop and make change manually, slowing things down even more. You just made someone do math, you creep.
• Everyone in line and everyone who will be in line for the next several hours of cascading slowness will be impacted by your rude, arrogant, myopic behavior. You need to die.
  

Normal, considerate, modern people use their debit card. I know this is kind of a difficult concept to understand, but many people have this thing called a “bank account”. The debit card takes money out of the "bank account" electronically, meaning quickly - and keeps the line moving and gets me my coffee in a timely way.

So listen up: NO ONE WANTS CASH, EVER! No vendor, no relative, no friend that you owe $400 for your trip to France. Cash is dirty and slow.

I am not done yet. What is with these freaking tards who stand in line at the grocery store and pull out their ancient checks books and start to fill it out after the clerk has rung up everything? This needs to be a felony and first up on the 3 Strikes And You Are Out law. Yes, I want that 76 year old grandma who writes checks at the grocery store for her fricking Kleenex and hard candy to either figure out how to use her debit card or starve.

I think I am done now.

Nope. I am not.

My father has this incredibly annoying habit of going to the grocery store and demanding to write a check for cash – without buying anything – and getting $100 bills. Then he goes around and pays for things like newspapers and Burger King with $100 bills. You can imagine my reaction to this, right? At least he does not carry a little coin purse in his pocket like his father did. How can I be part of this gene pool? Perhaps early exposure to pesticides caused some genetic mutation. That would explain many things.

I am done now. Off to get more coffee. With my debit card.