Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Nitpicking Today

No character sketch this week. I've gotten to the end of my story edits and am inputting the (mostly grammar) edit suggestions from a friend, so I'm stepping back from this world for a few days and haven't yet immersed myself in the next one.

Today I obsess. You could probably call it a character sketch of me. That it bothers me, that is. Because it's a silly little thing. A tiny thing.

In the book I'm reading, the main character, who has recently inherited gobs of money withdraws ten thousand dollars from the bank. Odd number to withdraw, I think, but I go on. That doesn't bother me. The part that bothers me is that she apparently stores this ten thousand dollars in her pocket. Of her jeans. Now, I remember withdrawing $200 once -- my dining table, maybe, to get it from a garage sale? You should know it came with four chairs and these really cool self-storing leaves before you pick on me for spending too much. I still love it, six years later, so I think that makes it worth it!

It doesn't matter why, I suppose, just that two hundred dollars made a giant lump in my pocket. I'd offer that maybe my jeans were tighter, but I can tell you that I never lie down to zip my jeans. Comfort rules my fashion choices, much to the chagrin of my friends who actually have fashion sense.

Anyway, I'm sitting here thinking that to put it in your pocket you could get ten thousand-dollar bills (Do they make those?) but then the pizza-guy they paid later would be seriously pissed. Or one hundred hundred-dollar bills, where the pizza guy would probably still be somewhat pissed and she'd probably need both pockets to hold it. Or sixty or so hundred-dollar bills and a bunch of twenties - a giant bunch of twenties. To have the full ten thousand in the useful form of twenty dollar bills, she would have five hundred of them. In her pocket.

Here, on page 78, quoted, "I had ten thousand dollars in my pocket, less forty that I'd spent on pizza and beer..." Which implies it's in some useful form the pizza-guy could make change for. So I guess, what I really want to know is.... What kind of jeans was she wearing (super geekliness coming in table-top rpg reference) that have pockets of holding allowing her to carry around 500 bills without feeling like she'd stuffed a brick into her pants?

Alright. I'm done obsessing now. On with the story. (The one I'm reading, I mean. I have nothing for you. Pull out your own book and try not to obsess over it.)

No comments:

Post a Comment