Times of Change

She handed me a $20 bill for a $15 bracelet, 1/2 Persian red and silver weave.

Now that's normally not a problem, for I just give back a single $5 bill and we call it even. Right?

This particular day, as most particular days, I was selling my work at the Bastion Square Market. That's in Victoria, in case you're not familiar with it. And Victoria, that's in British Columbia. As in Canada.

And this $20 was green.

Well, even that's not saying much, since most $20 bills here are green. But this one was a darker green. As in US-currency-green. As in not-Canadian.

Now that's fine. I've got no problem with that. Most of us here in the frozen north accept US currency, and last year it was actually close to par. So she handed me $20 and I gave her back $5 with nary a twinge of guilt. No problem, right?

Well, let's just say that things went contrary to my expectations.

With a disgusted sneer on her face, she looked at this blue plasticy-paper thing in her hand and said, "What is this?" I could have put a worm in her hand and received about the same expression. Probably from both of them at the same time.

"That's your change", I said, with a calm coolness that was rapidly evaporating.

"But what is this?"

I carefully explained that the bracelet was only $15, and since she gave me $20, I owed her $5.

Again, she asked what it was, since it was clearly not a bill that looked familiar to her.

"Well," I said, as carefully as I would if I were explaining a difficult concept to a child, "we're in Canada. That is a Canadian five dollar bill. Your change."

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

I carefully edited my first response before I said anything, for I do try to be a gentleman.

"You can spend it like any other money", I tried.

"But I don't want this funny money. I want an American five."

"I'm sorry", I replied, trying to bolster up some sympathy in my voice, and likely failing, "but I don't have one. And besides, it's illegal for me to give change in anything besides Canadian currency."

"But I don't want this. I want a real five."

That was when I managed to smile again.

"All right, look", I offered. "Here. Let me show you something."

I handed her back her twenty, and took the bracelet and the five back in my own hand. And then I carefully outlined my idea to her.

"We are not in the United States. We are in Canada. This is another country, and your currency is not considered valid, legal tender here. I only accepted it out of courtesy. Now, if you want to buy this bracelet, please pay me $15 in real Canadian currency. I will not accept your funny money here. I will only take legal tender."

I'm not sure, but I don't think I have ever been so glad to lose a sale.

Well, except for maybe that lawyer guy. But that's another story.