No quarter

I wish I could digitally capture the facial expression that Scott has whenever I do something stupid. It is a combination of amusement, disbelief and pity. Whether his pity is for me or for himself I do not know. He gave me just such a look recently when we went grocery shopping.

We used to shop at a hoity-toity market with free-range shopping carts. When our pets put us in the poor house, however, we began shopping at the local no-frills grocery store (which is named, fittingly, No Frills). Unlike the chi-chi market, No Frills has instituted a loss-prevention program for its shopping carts. The carts are chained together in drafty shelters in the store parking lot. To release a cart from the chain-gang, one must insert a quarter into a coin slot affixed to the handle.

During the shopping trip in question, when I fished around for a quarter, I found one with a design that I had not seen before. It featured a tall ship, its sails stretched by strong winds, and the dates 1604-2004. Curious, I asked Scott what happened in 1604. He didn't know, either.

We did our grocery shopping, loaded our items in the car and I returned the cart to the shelter. When I locked the cart to the next one in line and withdrew a quarter, I was amazed to see that the coin had the exact same design as the one I had used as a deposit. I excitedly ran back to the car and showed the quarter to Scott, telling him about the unbelievable coincidence. That's when he gave me The Look.

Listen, I'm not mechanically minded. How was I supposed to know that the quarter I put in is always the same one I get back? I don't think about these things. Obviously.