Lucky Pennies, Part II


I’m re-collecting lucky pennies…re-obsessing? It got to the point of crazy when I found myself trying to pick one up that had dried into the tar of a paved street.

An older man stopped in his tracks because I looked that psychotic. He gave me that WTF-are-you-serious? stare. I had to walk away, but promised myself I would come back with a tool and dig it out.

Five minutes later, on the train, I switched seats with a family so they could sit together, and while across from them, I noticed a quarter. I think the mom thought I was being creepy, but I had the urgency to tell her son to pick up the found money.

A quarter still has some value…well, maybe an “added” value, but one nonetheless. Unlike a lucky penny, which is purely a charm thing, a quarter can still get you something. Store owners will let you get away with being short some change…but not by 25¢. And “found money” is always good money. I pointed to the daughter and told her to pick it up and keep it, which she did.

Yesterday, in the middle of some dirty street in NYC (aren’t they all), I saw a shiny penny. This penny would decide if I should go to Beijing, if I should move to CT or work in central Jersey. I was puking at all of the offers—here, when I was already way into the process of creating my dream job. This beautiful penny would assure my happiness, would inform me of the right direction, of my future.

This all started here.

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