two and a half cents

Yesterday I wandered in to a bookstore that was having a sale. I found ¨The House on Mango Street¨ in Spanish for about $3USD. What a steal! I decided to buy it. In pesos, my total came to $9.90.

I handed the woman at the checkout a $10 peso bill. She took the money, I told her I didn´t need a bag, she handed me my book and moved on to the next customer. I waited patiently, assuming she had forgotten my ten cents, or that she was going to have to scrounge up a coin or two once she had waited on the other customer. But she finished, and then just looked at me like, What the hell do you want? I asked, ¨Hay cambio?¨ (Is there change?) She gave me a really mean look, one that made me feel like I has just said the stupidest thing in the history of the world, and then put a mean little smile on her face. ¨You really care about ten cents?,¨ she asked.

Of course I did. Coins are valuable here - the buses only take coins, and everyone hoards them away because there are so few due to the fact that coins are worth more when they´re melted down than they are as money, so the bus companies sell them, which creates a shortage of coins. One of the first pieces of advice I received about Buenos Aires, before I´d even left the U.S., was ¨Save your coins!¨ So, lady, the answer is yes, I want my ten cents. And how very presumptuous of you to assume I wouldn´t.

¨You don´t have any change?¨ I gave her a very incredulous look. ¨No.¨ Another demeaning stare from her. What was I supposed to do? Argue over a tenth of a peso - or two and a half pennies? After a brief staring match I figured I´d be the bigger one and just walk away. But the entire walk home I was fuming. I don´t care about the money - I´m dating someone who actually throws pennies into garbage cans because it annoys him to have to carry them around - but it´s the principle of it. I bought your stupid used book, I want my stupid ten cents. And don´t look at me like I´m some idiot. And if you really don´t have any change, then tell me up front, nicely, and apologize, and ask if it´s okay if I just let the ten cents become a donation to the bookstore. Do not, however, treat me like I can´t do simple math and I don´t know exactly what´s going down.

I wanted to reach across the cash register and perform some ninjitsu on that scrunched-face, coin-hoarding, mean, mean woman. And I really wished I would have asked for a bag, for the sole reason that she would´ve had to replace it and it would´ve made a little dent in her Thieving Profits.