Hard Cash Highs

When the ATM machine spills out the crisp nice-smelling brand new notes I take a subconscious pledge never to part with them. I would not even want to half-fold to accommodate them in my pocket or in my purse. It really pains to part with them – even for petty expenses like bus fares. A prized possession that I'd like to keep forever.

With my checkbook I feel like a benevolent paymaster; and, the Boss. I write out the checks with immense pleasure and pride. I sign off with a flourish taking in its power to satisfy all the concerned parties. It's a pleasure every inch of the way. This is despite the fact that all those checks are bound to make indelible dents on my own accounted hard cash.

With my credit cards I feel like the Almighty. It's a privilege all the way – from taking out the piece of plastic, displaying it, swiping it, signing the charge slip and putting the magnificent artifact safely back. No matter how big or how small are the transactions. This is despite the fact that all those transactions are bound to make further indelible dents on my own accounted hard cash.

With my friends on equal contribution parties, I feel the pinch to give out my share in hard cash. I make a deal with them. I'll pay the full bill in plastic and all the members will pay me their contributions in hard cash. I get the largest kick by making an enlightening instead of paying out my mandatory contribution. This is despite the fact that the big party is bound to make further indelible dents on my own accounted hard cash.

My possessive passion for hard cash is unmitigated; insatiable; unfathomable; and somewhat uncontrollable.

I keep on wondering why.

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Source by Chinmay Chakravarty

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