Very delicate, precise red text surrounding the "L" on one of the dollar bills in the office money jar caught my eye.
It called to me: Where has George been?
The bill had been stamped with a web site to track paper currency. I thought this was a cool idea, though it doesn't tickle me the same shade of pink as the Bookcrossing site.
Immediately I thought of how grossed out A. would be knowing he could track the many, many hands that touched the bills he handled. He shudders at the potential traces of all the germs, residual bodily fluids, etc. that stick to money. He worked at a truck stop just long enough for the dismal hygienic standards of the truckers to leave him with such vivid impressions of total grossness that only the special effects on CSI can come close to adequately expressing his imagined fears.
(On the other hand, my mind should have been employed by the art team for the CSI shows, as well as the X-Files: I have visions of blood and goop and parasites and general craziness every time I handle meat, clean a toilet, walk up a dark stairwell ...)
Oddly, money doesn't gross me out nearly as much as it does A.
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I was never grossed out by money until I dated a guy who was a bank teller in college...he told all kinds of stories about how nasty it is.
ReplyDeletePlus, it STINKS which is never a good sign.
I'm not really grossed out by money even though I know what happens to it, because I'm not really squeamish in general, but I do try to avoid holding it in my mouth like some people do. And also I have not discussed this with Torsten who is much more into the whole cleanliness thing than I am, because he would probably try to forbid me from ever touching money again.
ReplyDeleteI'm not too freaked out about money, but I definitely don't like it when people pull some wrinkled, sweaty mass of bills out of their pocket.
ReplyDeleteI do that Where's George thing! I even have a stamp!
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