The other day my former landlady asked me to exchange the hundred dollar bill I had given her for rent money last week. Apparently, her bank rejected it because of a tiny tear (approximately an eighth of an inch) on the lower left corner. Other than that the bill was pristine.
I found this frankly hilarious and rather annoying at the same time. I went back to the bank where I exchanged the money and the clerk happily exchanged the bill for another one.
I went and gave the new bill to my landlady. She told me that the people at the exchange place were trying to cheat me. I tried to explain to her that I used to work at a bank and we accepted money in basically any condition.
“But this is a lot of money!” she said to me.
I didn’t have the heart to explain that I easily went through $25,000 in cash—the majority of it in hundreds—on a payday Friday at Marisol Federal Credit Union.
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