Writing Prompt #1

I'm trying something new. So have patience with my lack of creativity.

Writing prompt...

You’re at your favorite department store buying a birthday present for a friend. As the cashier gives you change, you notice a message with specific instructions scribbled on one of the bills. What did the instructions say? Did you carry them out and, if so, how?

"Here's your change, $6.35. Thank you for shopping at Walmart, and please come again," came the automatic reply from the cashier.

I wasn't paying much attention to the change she'd given me, nor her reply. It's given by every employee here. I could say it in my sleep. Her unenthusisatic reply didn't bother me. I wouldn't be happy saying that phrase over and over again. My attention was focused on the one dollar bill still in the cashier's drawer. It's not mine. It will go to the next person in line, but I wanted to see it. It was covered with lettering. Block style from my point of view. Neat. With purpose. It wasn't a dollar bill where someone just happened to put a phone number or dollar amount on it. It wasn't just one line. There were several lines on it.

I barely noticed the money in my hand, or the person behind me waiting impatiently for their chance to check out. Ohioans are so damn unpatient and they intrude on one's personal space.

The cashier was just about to close the cash register when it popped out of my mouth, "don't close it!"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't close the cash register."

Through my intesity on this dollar bill I did happen to register her perplexity, and the fact that she didn't like my demands on Walmart's equipment.

"I want that dollar bill in there." My eyes are wide on the money, my body bending close to see what's there. "Can I have that dollar."

"No, you cannot have any more money. You have your change."

Looking up at her I see that she thinks I'm insane. Any second now she's going to call the manager, and that person is going to call the cops thinking I want to steal Walmart's money.

I take the dollar bill from my change and hand it to her, "Switch with me. That dollar bill on top for mine." She's looking at my outstretched hand with the dollar bill thinking I've gone crazy. She's going to by-pass the manager and call the closest mental health hospital.

To let her know I'm no threat, and all I want is that one particular dollar, I lay mine down, back away and wait.

"Fine. Here's your damn dollar." You don't hear that from Walmart employees every day.

She switches the dollar for me.

Okay, just seconds away from the mystery of the well written dollar. I wasn't mistaken, the handwriting was very neat, and it took up both sides. Black ink.

"To the person who reads this dollar bill... You are holding a scientific study. Please call the following phone number to participate. We are striving to achieve mass amounts of telephone calls from across the United States with this one dollar bill. Your phone call is urgently wanted. Please don't waste time. Call at (XXX) 555-0000."

O for crying out loud. They want me to call them. It's probably some pervert, or someone from Nigeria wanting to scam me for money. What a disappointment.

As I walk out of the store, I wad up the dollar bill, approach an unsuspecting cute twentysomething male, look him in the eye, give him the dollar bill and say, "here for a good time call this number." I walk off with a roll to my eyes.

Later that night....

Twenty-eight year old Robert finally looks at this dollar bill given to him by the lady walking out of Walmart. He reads the note and understanding sinks in, "Damnit, no wonder I had to change my number."