A Dollar bill

             The portrait of the father of our country. Repeated as a number across its face. All of these words could describe the appearance of almost any dollar bill. Unique to the United States, yet all the same. All dollar bills feel like paper against your skin when you are fiddling around in one"s pocket, looking for your keys or some other object of personal significance. All dollar bills have the same imprint as legal tender. And yet like all unexpected, found money, all dollar bills also give rise to a pleasurable sensation in the finger"s heart, no matter how small the denomination.

             Unlike the keys in your pocket that open the door to your unique home or room, however, a dollar is impersonal. A dollar bill is not like finding a now-useless note jotted down 'buy garbage bags." Credit card receipts, notes about shopping trips that are now complete, unused coupons, fliers taken from eager people on the street because you were too polite to say 'no"-all of these things from your pocket remind you about different things about your day. You remember 'hey, I charged my gas," 'I did remember to buy the garbage bags," 'I can get a dollar off my order next time I go to Wendy"s" and 'I saw that guy dressed as a sandwich and he gave me that flyer-what a weirdo." All of these are unique events. But where did you get that dollar? Was it from today, or the last time you wore your jacket? A dollar looks the same, no matter what store or street it came from. Like all money, it is a placeholder of value, not a valuable thing in and of itself-its only value lies in possibility, the possibility of sweeter smelling, tasting, appearing, and sounding things you could buy with it, from an apple to a candy bar to a newspaper to a new ring tone for your cell phone.

             Yet this dollar is still unique. True, like all money, it smells slightly metallic and unappetizing.

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