Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?

Two recent events reminded me of things I'd hadn't thought of in awhile. The first occurred at the grocery store a couple weeks ago, when the couple in front of me had finished having their items rung through. The woman was rummaging through her purse, pulling out coin after coin, in an attempt to get to the total that the cashier had given her. She literally turned her purse upside down, in order to get the last few pieces of currency out, before finally admitting that they didn't have quite enough to pay the bill. They then started picking out the items to leave behind, and that continued until they got down to a figure that the small pile of paper and larger mound of coins could cover. I didn't have any small bills or coins on me, or I most definitely would've offered up the $2 or $3 they were short, if no for other reason than to speed up the proceedings! (I don't mean to sound heartless, and if you keep reading, you'll see this wasn't a first-time experience for me.)

The second, similar scene happened at a variety store, where I was waiting in line to pay for about $5 in gas that I'd bought for the lawn mower. The young guy at the head of the line had asked for a couple packs of cigarettes, along with a chocolate bar and several other items. When he attempted to pay for them via his debit card, the transaction got rejected. He didn't seem overly surprised, but instead, put the chocolate bar back and then tried again. This continued a couple more times, until he was down to just one pack of cigarettes, which he seemed to have enough in the account to cover. In this particular case, I didn't feel the least bit tempted to offer to help, since buying people cancer sticks isn't high on my list of Good Deeds I Might Do.

Both of these incidents reminded me of being a kid, and being out shopping with my mom. She was always (barely) living from payday to payday, so running out of money wasn't the least bit out of the question. In fact, it was a regular routine that, when we went to buy groceries, she'd ask me to keep a running total in my head, so that there wouldn't be any surprises at the checkout. I got really good at doing that, to the point where I'd be right, within a dollar or two, and she relied on that to make sure she didn't go the route of the people I described above. Knowing her as well as I did, I'm quite sure she did this because she'd have considered it both rude and embarrassing to get into that predicament. Rude, because you're slowing down the people behind you, and embarrassing, because.. well, I'd think that's obvious!

Having lived that existence, for years, while at the same time being a long, long way removed from that situation in the last couple decades, I have mixed emotions when I see it play out in front of me. I can, and did, certainly empathize with their plight, and I understand a lot of things beyond one's control can lead to running out of money. But I also couldn't help but remember my own past. My mother had every reason to be bitter when money was tight, and to think that the world owed her something, and yet she still acted in accordance with a belief that everyone around her was as important as she was. None of the people I observed recently being unable to cover their tab exhibited even the slightest concern for the fact that they'd brought their respective checkout lines grinding to a halt, nor the faintest embarrassment about it. Maybe this is just Grouchy Old Matt and nothing else, but that certainly reduced any sympathy I might've felt toward them. In fairness to them, I know nothing about their story. It's possible that, knowing more, I'd have completely understood their behaviour. But since none of them seemed to be wearing shabby clothes, or lacking in jewellery or other forms of discretionary spending, it just ended up seeming more like people living beyond their means, and getting in my way when the world called them on it.