A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Check

Every now and then I like to go through the archives and dust off stories of shenanigans past. The summer between sophomore and junior year, I landed my first -- and last -- job in retail. Thank God I started eventually started working at WAMO too, or else it would have been one very, VERY, unhappy summer in Pittsburgh.
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August 2003

Yesterday I was excited. I went to work at the mall, knowing at the end of the night I'd have a few more dollars in my hand.

I was receiving my first paycheck from Lerner's. Though I knew it would be small (the only time I had put in for the pay period was for a two-hour training session), it didn't matter, because a couple of dollars looks and feels a whole lot better than an obese zero rolling around my checking account.

Finally the store is closed, and I ask my manager for my check. "You were only here for training, right?" she asks. "With those taxes, it's not going to be a whole lot."

"I know," I shrugged. "But a few dollars is better than nothing."

I take look at my check.

Gross pay: $12.50.

FICA/MED tax: 96 cents.

PA state tax: 35 cents.

City of Pittsburgh tax: 37 cents.

PA Occupational tax: $10.00

Net pay: $0.82.

...you've got to be fucking kidding me.

They cut me a check for 82 cents.

Eighty. Two.

18 cents short of an actual dollar.

So now I'm thinking... what the hee haw do I do with an 82-cent check? Can I really take it to the bank and cash it? Will the teller collapse into convulsions, hysterically laughing and pointing at me? Can I take to the ATM, or will the machine cough it back out at me and display a message on the screen asking, "Are you serious?"

82 cents.

Jazz told me not to spend it all at once.

I told my boyfriend I'd go to the one bead store in Pittsburgh and buy one bead with it.

Then my mom interjected, informing me that that would be impossible. Because in order to get to the bead store, I'd need to pay bus fare, which is $1.60, and I wouldn't even have enough to do that.

I can't even pay my tithes. Maybe that's why I didn't go to church this morning. You're supposed to give God 10% of your gross pay, which would be $1.25.

I have 82 cents.

I can't go to the dollar store, unless they have something on sale.

I can't buy my usual pack of Winterfresh gum.

I can't order off McDonald's Dollar Menu, or Wendy's 99-cent Menu.

I can't even dial 10-10-220.

82 mutha[CENSORED] cents.

Pointless.