News came Thursday that the U.S. Mint ordered pennies for the final time. The Treasury Department plans to end production of the one-cent coin, which cost about 3 cents to make.
“U.S. Mint moves forward with plans to kill the penny,” the Associated Press headline read.
Reactions poured into the paragraph factory from all generations.
Willard Antiqua, a World Word II veteran who grew up on a farm near Winterset, said, “I bought my first house for a penny and still had money left over to by six months’ worth of groceries, an entire candy store, a two-year subscription to the local newspaper, and enough to put a downpayment on our first radio.”
Antiqua added, “Is this Thursday? Oh, boy! Thursday is pudding night.”
Felix Notha, a baby boomer who grew up in Waukee when the town was mostly known for having a town triangle instead of a square, said, “It’s good to see the government ending welfare for the penny lovers. Only losers who can’t earn larger coins even touch the things.”
Notha added he still uses pennies as tips at restaurants.
“That penny is just enough to remind those loser waitresses that they should stay in school and work hard to get a better job,” Notha said.
Gen Xer Nil Mecacat drank from the hose in the backyard of a neighbor’s house between drags of a cigarette. She was disinterested by the news of the penny’s demise.
“I don’t care,” she said. “Why are you bothering me? All we ever asked is to be left alone. Get out of here, creep.”
Mecacat gave the reporter the middle finger and proceeded to pick Juneberries and eat them crouched in a feral position, eyes furtively scanning the area for predators.
Millennial Jessica Ashley Gannitor let out a lengthy, exasperated sigh.
“Great,” she said. “What are they going to pay my Social Security with now?”
Gannitor mixed what is believed to be the Guinness World Record for the largest and most alcoholic margarita and went back to her phone.
“That was a really good line,” she said, almost to no one. “I’ve got to post it to Insta with a cute pic of me at sunset.”
Gen Z member Madison Emma Stultus was nonplused by the question.
“What’s a penny? Is that some kind of bitcoin?” she asked. “Hey Siri, what’s a penny?”
Siri replied, “Here’s some info about pennies.”
Stultus shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I hate it when Siri makes read,” she said. “It’s like, ‘If I wanted to read, I would go on TikTok.’ I ain’t reading all that.”
The reporter observed that the text Siri returned was two sentences.
“Oh my god, just tell me what it is already,” Stultus said.
The reporter showed Stultus a penny. She began sobbing and hyperventilating.
“OMG! You should have warned me you were going to show me a weird little picture of a man who was assassinated,” she screeched. “That is so triggering! I’m going to have to take the rest of the day off.”
The reporter gave her the penny and left, feeling a migraine coming on.
The reporter began to write his story on the broken-down laptop his media outlet provided. He had almost finished when the audience engagement editor texted.
“You know what tending on the socials right now?” the 22-year-old, highly paid search engine optimization expert asked.
No, the reporter said, he did not know what was trending on the socials right now.
He explained had been interviewing morons all day about their opinions on something they didn’t know anything about, much like cable TV news.
“Seances! Everybody on the socials are talking about seances,” the editor, who just began shaving last Thursday yelled. “Do you think you could work a séance with Abraham Lincoln into your penny story?”
The reporter hung up his phone and threw it in the toilet. He went to the large jug filled with pennies in his living room.
He hefted it up and dragged it the car. He had just enough time to cash them in at the bank.
Hopefully, it would be enough to buy an oversized bottle of aspirin.
Daniel P. Finney is a member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative, but don’t hold that against them. Please visit their page to view a full roster of writers and consider subscribing to their columns. Writing is hard work; people ought to get paid for it. If you enjoy it, throw them a couple of bucks. They earned it.
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