I stopped checking my change about fifteen years ago but the nagging little voice said these tokens were different. "Probably, just some Canadian crap," the frontal lobe retorted and out the door I ran. Twelve hours later I am sitting in a meeting and hand drifts into pocket, touches coins, and again NLV requests an investigation. As voices droned frontal lobe relented with a sigh, "It's not like I have anything else to do."
Momentary confusion gave way to joy as frontal lobe processed what eyes reported. I hadn't stumbled across a silver quarter since Bush Sr. was President and never, at least never since I was aware enough to collect them, had I happened upon a "Mercury dime." Thank you nagging little voice. Turns out that breakfast sandwich I bought was free.
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