All the presidents must face the same way.
Those were the very specific instructions I received from Elaine Shackelford, manager of the convenience store where I worked during high school. She was referring to the cash register drawer and the proper way to stack paper bills in each compartment. Every bill had to face the same direction. No exceptions. No freestyling. Abraham Lincoln could not suddenly decide to stare off toward the coin tray while George Washington faced north.
The system made sense. Bills were easier to count, less likely to stick together and far less likely to be mistaken for larger denominations. More importantly, a tidy cash drawer helped ensure the register balanced at the end of each shift, which also helped ensure I continued to have a job.
Elaine’s instructions stuck with me. To this day, every bill in my wallet faces the same direction. Habits are difficult to form, but once they take hold, they cling tighter than a ketchup stain on a white shirt.
I am equally particular about my keys. If you are a regular reader of this column, you already know they ride on a carabiner attached to my belt loop like your high school janitor. Few things send me into a panic faster than misplaced keys. I have a very specific process for where they go when they are not attached to my side. It is less a habit and more a sacred ritual.
Naturally, this means my anxiety level spikes whenever someone borrows my keys. Watching another person casually walk away with them feels like watching a toddler carry a lit firework into a gasoline convention.
Then there are charging cords. In today’s high-tech world, recharging devices has become an event. Phones. Watches. Tablets. Laptops. Earbuds. Electric toothbrushes. Every gadget requires its own cord, cube or mysterious adapter that disappears the moment you need it.
I like having my own charging cords for my own electronics. My wife apparently believes this is an adorable suggestion rather than a hard rule. Yes, she has cords of her own — somewhere. Yet, somehow, my chargers remain the most desirable electronics accessories in the house. Either mine are easier to find, or she simply enjoys watching me wander around muttering like a deranged airport traveler hunting for an outlet. Honestly, it is probably both.
I have purchased replacement cords using the perfectly aligned cash from my wallet, but those cords disappear, too. “You need to learn to share,” my wife tells me. She is correct, of course. Still, there is a fine line between sharing and living in a household where charging cords vanish with the speed and mystery of government funding.
At this point, I am convinced there is a black-market economy operating somewhere inside my house. Missing socks, charging cords and ink pens are all being traded like rare baseball cards. Someday, archaeologists are going to uncover a hidden stash behind the dryer containing 47 charging cables, three sets of car keys and enough loose change to buy a medium coffee. Every bill, of course, will have the presidents facing the same way.
Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital newsletter
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707