Even Benjamin Franklin Can’t Change Anything

‘Oh sure, they all think they want me, and lots of me, but, what do they do as soon as they get me? They give me to somebody else who then gives me to somebody else and on and on it goes. Just as I’m getting comfortable in the pocket of someone, just as I’m getting to know them, ka-ching! I’m taken out of someone’s wallet and put into someone else’s. No body wants me, not the real me, everybody wants the idea of me. Everybody wants to be rich by having lots of me, but, alone, I don’t make anybody rich. I hate my life,’ lamented the bitter little five dollar bill.

‘At least I’m not a dime, or a penny. Pennies are so unwanted, people don’t even stop to pick them up any more. I hear there’s talk of getting rid of pennies all together,‘ the little five dollar bill shivered, knowing it was just a matter of time before there would be whispers of getting rid of him, too.

‘Time is money,’ thought the money ironically, knowing time was way more expensive.

“Hey, how you doing?” asked the one dollar bill that had been slipped in next to the little five dollar bill.

The little five dollar bill knew enough not to make friends with any of the other bills and change that he rubbed up against. Time was too temporary to bother. A fool and his money are soon separated. The little five dollar bill knew he was no fool. He knew time and friendship are as significant as he makes them. He knew he would avoid the pain of loss by never having anything.

“Hey, what? You don’t talk? What’s your damage? Don’t you know we’re the same?” The dollar bill didn’t take silence as answer.

“We are not the same. I’m a five dollar bill, you’re just a one. I’m worth five times you.”

The dollar bill laughed in his face. “Says who?”

“Says right there on our bodies. Mine says five yours says one. Do the math.”

“Don’t you know we’re useless? You, me, even the one that looks like Benjamin Franklin. Alone, we’re useless. But, together, we can change the world.”

The little five dollar bill knew he was right, but, that didn’t mean he had to agree with him. “Screw you,” the little five dollar bill said, returning to his existence of self-absorption.


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