Canadian coins induce stress on students

Amy Dillon and Amy Dillon

I have never hated Canada so much in my life.

Let me tell you a little story about why Canada is the new number 1 bane of my existence.

I’m pretty much positive most of you can relate to my “poor-college-student” status. I know someone out there can relate to my “up-until-an-hour-ago-I-had-four-dollars-to-my-name” status. Whichever one rings that little imaginary bell in your head I can almost guarantee this will tick you off…

After days of ignoring the growing pile of laundry in the corner of my dorm room the stench finally became too strong to tolerate. So, with much muttering and teeth grinding, I cashed in my 4 crumpled dollars for a pocketful of quarters and lugged my heaping bag of laundry down three flights of stairs.

Carefully considering how my quarters would be rationed (and knowing the washer cost an outrageous $1.25) I mustered up the few math skills I do have and figured that would leave me with 6 quarters for the dryer.

After about 45 minutes I returned to my rain-fresh scented wet clothes. After cramming the wet clothes into two dryers I allotted 3 quarters for the colors and 2 for my whites.

That left me with one security quarter in case one of the loads needed a little extra dryer lovin’ after their first toss.

When I returned to my clothes I was on my cell phone like any rational female undergraduate. I reached in the dryer containing colors and felt icky dampness. I dug for the remaining quarter and inserted it into the slot. Remember, I was engaged in a vital conversation (hmm… probably about what a rip off school laundry mats are) and I wasn’t paying much attention. When the quarter came back out I re-inserted it without care. However, the quarter returned again.

I then directed my complete attention to the resistant quarter and spit out a curse. Looking back at me was not the great George Washington but a %#!ing Caribou (Yeah, that’s right – I was ticked off enough to investigate what animal is on their currency).

It was this moment that I came to understand the conspiracy that has been going on for years. It has been happening right under our noses and no one has caught on.

Until today.

I have come to the conclusion that Canadians are crafty minded-insurgents. For years they have sent musicians, actors, vacationers and the common immigrant in disguise for the simple goal of depositing small amount of Canadian change into the American circulation.

They are not only ruining our economy by stopping us from buying things from vending machines after we realize our last dime isn’t American currency but they are also evoking a silent rage within us. Well, by golly, they’ve got me! They want us to get so frustrated with small things like folding wet laundry that some day we’ll just snap. Maybe it will be tomorrow, maybe it will be years from now. But some day I will smell clothes that weren’t allowed the proper drying time or attempt to buy a Butterfinger and realize I have Canadian money and I’ll just loose it.

Maybe we’ll scream in a fit of rage. Maybe I’ll plan the genocide of Caribou. But evidently it will lead to either our miserable demise or the death deforestation of thousands of Maple trees.

I know, you never thought of it like that. I am here to liberate you, my friends. My advice, always keep a magnet in your wallet. Don’t trust anything too shiny.