Many years ago, after shooting a few of god's creatures and deciding I liked it only slightly less than the creatures themselves, I resolved to find some new entertainments. One of the most enduring has been making up stories, or, as I like to call it, seeing the unseen.
Over the coming days, I will tell you a story that goes something like this...
Once upon a time, I arrived at the bank to discover that my intended deposit was $100 short. As best I could reconstruct, it happened because my renter pays me in cash. He is one of those first-decile poor people who can't be counted on to pay taxes, so as you can imagine, collecting rent is an adventure, too, and when I do, it arrives in small bills.
You may want to ask why a relatively prosperous individual such as myself is taking money from a poor working man, but that is not my story, and you can't stick me to it. I am actually a quite honorable and generous soul who is trying to recoup what he can of a sunken investment.
But anyway, I did not secure my jacket pocket and, as I cycled to the bank, five $20 bills apparently escaped along my route, leaving me $100 poorer than when I started. Naturally, the first thing I did upon discovering the shortage was to blame it on the bank clerk who counted my deposit. Once I confirmed the money was indeed missing, I whipped out my TI Business Analyst Calculator to determine the true extent of my loss.
Since I was planning to put the money in my retirement savings, I was able to calculate almost instantly that in 2027 when I go to buy a loaf of bread, I will have to pay for it with other funds. I was distressed by this news, of course, but somewhat mollified by the fact that I had stamped each of the bills with this message:
and report what you did with this money.
After all, I had become very concerned about my money falling into the wrong, unworthy hands and thereby causing economic decline and perhaps an irreversible calamity. I'm sure you will be enlightened by the reports I received.
