Because our CEO moved to California, Pepsi prices surged and nickels are apparently an endangered species of some kind. My system, “efficient” as it was, is crumbling around me. Since he left a couple of years ago, Pepsis are off the menu. It’s usually empty — because I go at weird times, and anyway, who buys drugs these days? But to get an efficient soda now, I need more than two spare dollars. And that’s where this already-madness sinks into sheer lunacy in the name of “efficiency”, because for the love of Jefferson’s jangly jowls, I can’t fricking find one. We had a CEO for a while who liked Pepsi, so they bought both brands. Usually about gum or coupons or possibly coupons for gum. If nobody’s using them, then they’ve all apparently decided to retire together between the seats of my Nissan. I’ve got no particular use for dimes, but evidently I own a bunch. If you need to park on the street anywhere in the Boston/Cambridge/Brookline area, it’ll cost you approximately 93 quarters per hour, so you have to keep a few rolls tucked in every automotive orifice you can find. I see other people engaged in long conversations with these cashiers. But when I scrounge through the pile of change in my car console, I’ve got pennies aplenty.Katherine rivaled Bree Van de Kamp for the title of perfect home fairy, and soon moved comfortably into the position of scheming vixen when it came to going about making her ends meet.
It’s hard to tell how many — they feel mostly like pennies, and I’m usually fumbling in the half-dark for a goddamned Pepsi nickel, so I can’t tell them apart so well. Mocking me with their extra five cents of value that isn’t worth wasting on this ridiculous exercise. You can never have too many quarters around here, so I have a bunch in the console. But quarters are the only coin bigger than, but also fairly similar in size to, nickels. Besides that, though, there are precious few nickels to be found. There must be ten dimes and as many pennies — and naturally, 93 quarters — for every nickel in the pile.A Paris police source said: "A criminal complaint was considered, but the police woman was finally persuaded to drop it." In the end she made do with an apology from the president, after being told that Louis and his friends frequently played in the palace courtyard."However, the fact that there is an election campaign in progress clearly played a significant role in the complaint not proceeding.Louis is the son of Mr Sarkozy's second wife, Cecilia Attias, whom he divorced within a few months of becoming president in 2007.Mrs Attias now lives full time in New York, having remarried, but Louis frequently travels to Paris to see his father.
She filed an official criminal report, but the case was dropped after the hugely embarrassed president apologised to her in person.