Money Talks

This morning I felt the softest hands. Red fingertips and the smell of fresh leather. I was on a private jet on my way to France, according to the woman’s boarding pass. Paris. I’ve never been to Paris; I hope I get to stay long. It’s been a while since I’ve been somewhere nice. The last few months, I have been stuck somewhere… smelly. Stuck in an old torn wallet in the back pocket of a truck driver. Not fun. He refused to spend me! He kept “saving me” for something special. Pathetic humans. I am one of infintriplets. I go, and another can easily come. I’ve been to so many places and have had so many traveling companions I’ve lost track. I do know that before I made it to the truck driver, I was with an artist who gifted me to a teacher. The teacher traded me in for a coffee and that same day, the barista gave me to a doctor. The doctor took me on a cross-country trip and used me for gas at a pit stop. I was a long way from the artist by the time I reached the truck driver. He is by far the most troubled companion I’ve ever traveled with. His stress is making my corners curl and traveling in this garbage heap that he calls a truck, littered with fast food wrappers and crumbs, is most unpleasant. So, was it the man that reeked or was it the truck or was it both!? Ha-ha. Oh, the worried stares he would give me. Some days rudely with no breath mint. He just stared at me, contemplating what to do with me. I got used to our daily stare offs until one day he picked me up with a smile. My spending senses were tingling, and I couldn’t help but to eavesdrop.

“Hello, what can I do for you, sir?”

“Hello, I am here to purchase a gift for my wife. It’s our 30th wedding anniversary and I want to get her something nice.”

“Absolutely sir, how about these beautiful 10 karat diamond earrings, freshly mined from the depths of the African jungle?”

“Uhhhhh…”

“We also have ruby rings available in Oval, Solitaire, Halo, and of course everyone’s favorite, Princess Cut.”

“Uhhhhh…”

Oh yes, yes, yes. Spend me on something really nice.

“Or how about a gold – “

“Sir, sir, I’m sorry. I wish I could afford such fine things, but I’ve been a truck driver for fifteen years. My wife is a secretary. We don’t have much, but this woman is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and she deserves something nice for our anniversary. This is my last $100. Is there anything I can buy here with this?”

The salesman looked at me and then looked at him. Then he looked at me and then he looked at him again. I obviously looked amazing, per usual. The truck driver, not so much. His Walmart jeans were definitely out of place in this jewelry store where they sold $80 key chains.

“Wellllll. Not much. But we may have something for you in clearance.”

That was the last time I ever saw the truck driver again. I don’t get sentimental about goodbyes, I’m usually not with anyone long enough anyway. I’ve even slept through a couple of relationships. And in the words of a wise woman I heard on the radio once, “Thank you, Next,”. That same day I became change to some rich, blonde, hotel heiress, and that’s how I ended up on this private plane. Now let me tell you, this chick is rich, rich, rich, rich, rich, dumb rich. You have to be rich if you’re getting handed hundreds in change. She even smells rich. This is my type of gal; I’m familiar with her mannerisms and I know I won’t be here long. After spending a night at a gorgeous five-star hotel overlooking the city lights, we woke up early to get straight to business.

“Ms. Hilden, welcome back.”

“Hello, I’m here for a new doggy bag. Do you have the latest Spring collection?”

“Oh, of course, Ms. Hilden. The new Louis Vuitton Spring collection just arrived this morning. I’m sure you’ll find just what you need.”

“That’s hot.”

Quicker than I expected, we parted ways. Oh, to stay in Paris and at a Louis Vuitton store! What a treat. I have extra security around here and it’s so clean! My roommates are so sophisticated too, none of those cheap dollar bills around. They play soft jazz music, and the people are never loud. I like it here. But alas, all good things must end. I was yet again traded away. This time it was to a man with long hair and an open shirt revealing chest hair that didn’t match the hair on top. His fingernails were filthy, and he was wearing an Ed Hardy Cologne. Hello sir, 2008 called and they want their cologne back. He was so rude and obnoxious. We didn’t have a pleasant first night. The jerk took me out, laid a strip of white stuff on me and put me to his nose! Like what was that! The freak had other people do it too! Oh, my BEP, I feel so violated. I have to get out of here! Please let this man spend me!

“Cookies for sale! Fresh, warm chocolate chip cookies for sale! Help empower young minds on a full stomach!”

“Maannnn am I stoned. Hey kid! How many cookies can I get for uhhhhh, $100?”

“You can get 100 cookies!”

“Sold!”

“Daddy, daddy!! Look, I made my first $100!”

“Wow! $100! The first of many sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but this is my first. She’s special.”

Special? I’ve never been called special before. I’ve never been anyone’s first either.

“Can I hang her up on my wall?”

“Sure darling. “

I’ve been around a long time, and I always found humans to be all too predictable. But to my surprise the tiny human, the one they call Amy, put me in a glass box over her bed. Every day she woke up cheerfully and wished me a good morning. I’ve received many smiles in my life, but this one is different; this one is genuine. Her smile hides no ulterior motives, no selfishness or insecurity. It simply resonates with pride. At the ripe old age of 21, this dog sure learned a new trick. Since forever my one true desire has been to be spent. Spent super-fast and on the most expensive thing. I used to go mad sitting around waiting to be spent, dreaming only of travel and luxury. Yet here I am, content. In this tiny square foot box. Turns out monogamy suits me, for I have found something even a million of me can’t afford. Maybe humans aren’t so pathetic after all.