Paper Money

Sorry, the card machine is busted.

I looked at the man behind the counter as if he had just complimented the silkiness of my foreskin.

The what is what??

I said with puzzlement.

Cash only today. The card machine is busted.

The man waved a hand at a swipey card payment machine which looked to be in fine form.

I looked at my latte and sandwich and then back at the man. I waggled my bank card at him hopefully. As if he could stick it somewhere else on his person and process my payment.

There's an ATM just across the road. You can get cash out there?

He said, shaking his head sadly.

I looked through the window to where he pointed. Sure enough, there was a grubby ATM across the road with an even grubbier collection of peasants queuing up to take out paper money. I shuddered at the thought.

But there's a queue. My sandwich will get cold.

I whined, pointing at my freshly toasted sandwich like a sheep at a used condom.

The serving man exposed all his teeth in a horsey grin of generosity.

Have your sandwich first, were not barbarians here! It's our fault for the machine not working!

The man proclaimed both happily and apologetically like a dog squeezing a shit perfectly into a slipper.

Oh, cool. Alright then.

I took my coffee and sandwich to a nearby table. Looking outside I noticed it had started to rain. The queue of grubby cash lovers seemed to be getting longer.

Again I shuddered. I was expected to go out there and stand in a queue to take out dirty cash from a dirty cash machine?

With these beautiful hands of mine?

I started on my lunch. I had a whole two hours child-free today as the good lady was horse-trading me for some future Doula favour.

I grunted as I bit into the sandwich. It was a relatively new cafe, I hadn't been in before. Hmm. The sandwich wasn't the best. It was a bit soggy, like an old nun's gusset.

Manfully, I scoffed it down. When you are a parent of a young child you never know when you might get the chance to eat again.

On finishing, I rose and gestured at the man behind the counter with two fingers in the universal sign that meant two minutes and then pointed at the ATM across the road.

He saw me and grinned easily giving me the thumbs up.

I left the place, pulling my collar up against the rain. I looked at the grubby peasants lining up at the ATM to suck at it's greasy teat.

I made an angry cat's vagina face at the thought of joining them and hurried past the line, onwards, back to my home.

Paper money indeed. That will be the day.