Of all the ill-thought out, poorly executed and downright asinine phrases Ive said in my life, I did not expect $16.12 to be one of those phrases.
For future reference, gentle readers: If you ever find yourself trying to help cognitively impaired 6th graders learn the concepts involved in change making? Do not (and I cannot stress this enough) under any circumstances, start with a price point that is 88 cents away from the next dollar. Unless you want to endure twenty VERY LONG minutes of mentally excruciating agony and frustration.
I need to purge this. Im not even going to try to tell it in “story form”. Just some random…purging.
The learning support teacher prepped me for the group by giving me a shoebox that contained the following
-A ball of twine
-several small stacks of cupcake cups. (unfortunately sans cupcakes)
-about 12 baggies full of real and fake change.
Her instructions? “Play cashier”. I am pleased to say that I did make the episode more bearable by fantasizing the game as “cashier gets held up and tied to a chair by the cupcake bandits?”
At first it was just change sorting. Until Perfect Storm suddenly spit out the reed from her clarinet that she had been chewing on for the past fifteen minutes (approximately. Time is based on last out of mouth siting of said clarinet reed). Let me tell you right now friends, you’ve definitely crossed the line into grotesque when spit drool steve is appalled by your reed chewing/spitting behavior.
Sure friends, you can judge me for offering up the saliva soaked mangled piece of wreckage as my first sale item. Walk in these shoes first people. Since there were no takers, we opted to price point a random bulldog picture. And that friends, is where 16.12 comes in.
The most frustrating aspect of the whole experience was that I watched them friends. They all made change like dutiful little fast food employees right up until the game started. When it started, nobody could grasp that you needed three pennies to get from 12 to fifteen. People added quarters and fifty cent pieces. All three of them answered every coin question with the number 25. And glared when I told them to try again. Because apparently if your grit your teeth and whine the number 25 in your most grating and irritated voice, you can get from 12 cents to 15 cents.
It pretty much de-escalated from there.
I am proud of myself today friends. Because despite the sorest temptations imaginable, i DID not say “why the hell are you acting like little retards?” or “I know you aren’t this stupid, quit fucking with me.” I didn’t even through clenched teeth threaten to shove the exact count of pennies up their asses as a way of convincing them the answer was not 25. You know why friends? Because I am a beacon of compassion.
* I think I had some shadow issues. I was trying not to flash back to ta period of toughskins and a really bad manhair cut from my grammy.