A few days ago, I broke a five for a cup of coffee and the clerk handed me back 2 Sacajaweas and a Susan B. Anthony. I was annoyed but accepted politely and thought nothing more of it — until last night, that is, when I broke a ten for some milk and beer and a different clerk, in a different neighborhood, gave me my change: a two dollar bill.
Surely there's no clearer indication of a recession hit-home than registers across Brooklyn stuffed with citizens' rainy day money (dollar coins) and novelty cash (Jefferson note)? It's barrel-scraping spending, the cash-strapped in the final throes of splurging. Next, expect SixFlags-ish lines at Commerce's Penny Arcades, followed by rioting, looting, arson and, finally, acceptance.