Mood Piece January 22 2018

“I’m sorry sir, but we can’t accept foreign currency here. If you want to complete your purchase you’ll have to go down to a bank or the local embassy to exchange it for reinmarks.”

"But this was perfectly acceptable yesterday!" He insisted

"Ahh, I see the problem sir." She said, typing quickly at a computer, "It seems the neighborhood in which you are districted was purchased by a small start-up firm last night. You are no longer part of French Montana but are now a proud citizen of the Tradingwealth of Blue River Automation. You'll have to get your currency exchanged."

"Aren't they supposed to inform us of these sorts of things?" He asked skeptically

"Well I believe that was part of the original French Montana constitution, however that clause was renegotiated during the merger with the postal service union yesterday afternoon and as it was no longer a sovereign territory as of the purchase of your particular neighborhood its laws were no longer recognized."

Outside of the hardware store his car was being towed. It seemed that, with his now defunct license plates the vehicle was in violation of a number of ordinances and at least two treaties. It was probably for the best, he thought, he was unsure if he'd be able to afford the taxes on it under the new government and appealing to the Transnational Revenue Bureau would take months. He began to walk the handful of miles between the store and his house, trying to figure out the quickest way to update his work visa. Taking a job clear across town had been a bad decision, he mused.

The lock on his apartment door had been replaced by a coin operated handle, but it seemed to be designed for whatever the new currency was on this block. Luckily the family that shared the apartment let him in. They hadn't lived there when he left for the store earlier, but they assured him it had all been cleared by the landlord this morning. They seemed nice enough. They had immigrated from a few blocks over when the tire factory they were indentured to had been retooled into an electronics outlet. His bed had been moved into the hallway since he didn't need as much space. His rent would stay the same.

He suddenly felt very tired. It had been a long day, he thought, perhaps he should just try again tomorrow. His phone told him he had 4 new emails. Two were advertisements for new cars. One was a bill for towing his car earlier today. The last was a notice from the Department of Labor Statistics informing him that his legal status had been redefined as Marginal Work Associate, second class.

As rolled over he in bed, the house radio playing some new dance music he hadn't heard yet he sighed. Still, it wasn't as bad as last year. Not yet.