"What do you want done with your dollar?" Someone called to someone standing on a light-up platform. "Towards Spaghetti," came the answer as the person copied a list of songs played onto a slightly rearranged list.
One man smoothed the folds, another piled. Two women with newspaper rubberbands on wrists counted and re-stacked the dollar bills.
"See the evil eye?!"
"Don't call George evil."
"Can if I want to."
"True but lame."
"That's the best part," a hand pointed to the phrase "In God We Trust". Two people smiled at each other, relieved to have come to agreement about some stuff in the world.
"What's up with these other symbols?" Asked a foreign medical student.
People were quiet, implying (i)fuck if I know(i).
"I like to think of those as on a scale," one man ventured.
"Egyptian v American?"
"Fed v Executive branch actually." The man focused on unfolding the bills of money as people looked at him maybe wondering (i)who thinks about stuff like that(i). "We'd all be slaves to a dollar bill for shared spaghetti if the Feds were the only ones in charge of the money. Like (i)commies(i). But with an Executive branch to uphold my individuality in this big mess, I get to eat steak!" People looked at him. Then he looked around the table, eyed the most beautiful single woman, and asked her, "Would you like to join me?"
"Sure would. But my boyfriends have other plans for me."
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