What's the deal? I go to my bank on Friday, and the ATM spits out TENS! Tens of TENS! Not twenties as usual. So everywhere I go, I have to count out tens. And the clerks thank me profusely. "Thanks for those tens! You're a lifesaver!" Or, "Hey! Tens! We didn't get any tens this week. We're running low."
And last night, I saw on the news that my debit card is being refused all over the nation. Well, not mine, specifically. But my bank's debit card. What's up with that? Checks are fine, but the debit is declined. Somebody's up to no good. I hope all of my personal information has not been hacked by some thirteen-year-old with too much time on his hands. That's why I keep the bulk of my benjamins in a rock-solid savings-and-loan. One that does not sell its loans to other institutions. Take THAT, you prepubescent hacker!
I might just as well invest in socks, so all of you who decide to live off the grid can buy them from me, (or perhaps swap a hen or a piglet), so you will have somewhere to keep your gold pieces under the sod of your back yard.
Hillbilly Mom. Always looking to the future, with one eye over her shoulder for the conspiracies that follow.