Got a dime?

Deep from one of the flooded bins on the carport, I rescued this. It’s a little bag I made when I was around 15. I don’t remember if I used my jeans, Riley’s, or First Love Tim’s, but it had a rawhide cord that pulled it into a little pouch, and I often hung it from a belt loop. That rawhide cord had come out and become a slimy thing that scared the crap out of me because I thought there was a snake in the bin, even though snakes aren’t slimy and whatever, fear knows no reason. After some serious laundering, my little denim bag is fine. As I recall, we called these dope bags, but I never had pot in mine, probably only a few dollars and some change. Always had to have a dime with me for that emergency call. There’s a whole generation who thinks phone calls were a quarter, and more generations who don’t know what a pay phone is.


One thought on “Got a dime?”

  1. What a sweet thing to have! So many memories.

    Things have changed so much in my lifetime that it brings home the changes that my parents and grandparents saw in theirs.

    Kids today have no concept of going to a library to look things up, or always making sure one had change for a payphone – or going out in the morning and not coming back home until teatime (inbetween which your parents had no way of knowing where you were or getting in touch). Halcyon days.

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