I stepped off the bus, clutching my backpack close. I didn’t want anybody to get any bright ideas about what’s in my pack.
“It’s just my laptop.” I would mutter, as the ravenous looks amplified.
I approached my new workplace. I was lucky enough to be hired during this economy, so any job of any sort was good enough for me.
As I approached the building, I noticed a little corner coffee shop. I needed my caffeine fix for the day, so I stopped in.
The barista approached the bar. I was the only customer in there. I glanced at the menu and decided on my drink.
The barista took out his notepad and grabbed my order.
“That’ll be $17.” the barista requested.
I felt for my wallet. Nothing. Maybe I put it in my backpack? Did I leave it on the bus?
“Just one second, I misplaced my wallet.”
“Uh oh.” the barista replied.
I felt around and took off my backpack and opened the zipper. I felt through all the ziplock bags inside. No wallet.
“What do you have in there?” the barista asked.
“What?” I asked, playing dumb.
“I thought I saw some paper.” the barista replied.
“It’s just a few ultra’s.” I said.
The barista’s jaw dropped.
“You, have ultra’s?”
I stopped fumbling around inside my backpack and gave up any hope of finding my wallet. I stood up.
“Look,” the barista offered, “Give me some ultra’s and I’ll give you your order on the house.”
I scoffed. “Ultra’s for a latte? Are you mad?”
The barista thought for a moment.
“I’ll throw in a scone. Wait. Two scones.”
I thought about it. It seemed fair. I reached inside my backpack and pulled out one of my ziplock bags and handed it over.
“You’re a life-saver.” the barista said. He tucked the ziplock bag into his back pocket.
A loud authoritative voice sounded off behind me.
“I hope that’s for personal use.”
I turned around. It was the Paper Police, ironically shortened to P.P. by most.
“It’s illegal to have more than 40 sheets in your possession.” the officer explained.
I looked down at my backpack. I chuckled.
“Thankfully that is all I have in my possession.” I lied.
The officer moved towards me. “We’ll see about that.”
The officer grabbed the backpack and opened the main compartment. The officer let out an audible gasp.
“First, you’re under arrest for using toilet paper as currency.”
An awkward silence followed as the officer regained focus.
“And second…” the officer continued, “How the hell did you get ultra’s?”