Goodbye, Piggie Bank

Over the past several years, I've been in the habit of hoarding my coins in mason jars.  I think of it as embezzling money from myself - it gives me a chance to skim a bit of cash of the top of my budget, and then every so often I take the hoard to the bank and have the great delight of suddenly having an extra forty or fifty dollars to get myself an unexpected present.

I used to take my stash to Commerce Bank, which had those coin machines called the Penny Arcade.  You inevitably had to wait a while for the machine, but once it was your turn the transaction was quick and satisfactory; you dumped your coins into the machine's trough, it counted them out for you and printed a receipt, and then you waited for a bank teller who would make good on the amount.  Much easier than sitting at home and making rolls of pennies, nickels and dimes (quarters all go to the laundry).

Then, of course, Commerce Bank went the way of most banks, and was swallowed by TD Bank (Toronto Dominion).  Its cheerful red awnings were replaced by forest green, but everything else appeared to be more or less the same, including the Penny Arcade.

Until yesterday, that is, when I walked to the nearest TD Bank branch in the cold with a very heavy mason jar filled with coins, eager to empty my stash.  I waited patiently to use the machine, got my little receipt, and then moved to the line for the tellers - already five or six people deep, and not moving.  For a moment I thought, "I'll come back later," but that seemed silly, so I settled in to wait, my eyes fixed on the counter.  It seemed to me that the women behind it must have all taken pain killers or nyquil, or the sort of medicine that warns you not to operate heavy machinery, because they appeared to hardly be awake, much less moving.  We waited, and waited, and the line behind me grew longer, and longer, until it had practically reached the banner above the door that proudly announced: "America's Most Convenient Bank."

At long last, my turn.  "This is from the penny arcade," I said, handing the teller my receipt.

"There's now a 6% charge, but we're waiving it today," she replied, as she began to (slowly) count out my money.

"Is that new?" I asked.

"No, it's not new!  We've had it since November!"  (Am I silly to think that 'since November' still qualifies as new?  After all, it's only mid-December now...)

"How long are you waiving it?" was my next question.

"Just today, because we have a lot of people waiting."

"Oh!" I said.  What more could I say?  I gratefully took my money before she changed her mind, thanked her, and hurried towards the doors, past the line of fifteen people and out beneath the banner proclaiming: "America's Most Convenient Bank."  

"So," I thought, "thanks to the codeine everyone here seems to have taken, it takes the tellers too long to calculate 6% and subtract it from the total, to both keep the line moving and charge the fee.  I suppose I'm lucky."

But with a 6% fee, no benefit to keeping my piggie bank any more, either, is there?  Unless I plan to start rolling coins again.  No - I think I need to find another way to embezzle from myself!

Comments

[Amanda]

Think there may be a coin-counter at the Stop&Shop on the Post Road in Larchmont? Once you've confirmed, you can plan on hauling your stash there. ;)

6% charge is disappointing, but I can understand, if they have to keep staff there to give you cash.

[Awake]

oh, oh, defend them, why don't you?!!
I'm joking, but the "Penny Arcade" used to be their happy little neighborhood service, a PR thing I suppose you could call it. The sort of thing good old Tammany might do.