Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve wanted to be able to pile a bunch of quarters on my elbow, flick my wrist downward and catch every last coin.
Like this …
I first saw it happen on Happy Days, and it’s long intrigued me. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, too. I’ve done about 45 pennies, 35 quarters. Of late, however, I’ve been thinking more and more about the world record. Which, I’m pretty sure, is 61 quarters.
Hence, while packing yesterday for our trip to New York, I put 65 quarters in one of those small Ziploc bags. The plan, in my mind, is that I’ll gun for the record with the help of my two New York-based nephews. It’ll be fun and cool and …
“That’s kind of silly.”
The wife uttered those words, not fully feeling my need to pack 65 quarters. She thought it was kind of unnecessary and weird. But, I assured her, it’d be fun.
“OK,” she said. “But …”
No buts.
We arrived at the airport this morning. Made it through all the lines surprisingly quickly. Final line: the X-Ray. Wife goes through—no prob. Son—no prob. Daughter—no prob. Me—no prob … except for my bag. Which is pulled aside. I tell the man it’s probably a bottle of water. He searches—no water. I open pockets, open more pockets …
It was the bag of 65 quarters.
