The Almighty Quarter
By Misha Chellam
Staff Writer

The quarter –the quarter is the best unit of currency in America today. Pennies and nickels are cute but worthless, and dimes are too skinny. All of these small coins have physicality, but they lack worth: a handful might buy a few gummy worms at the local candy store. Basically, they don’t work.

The appeal of big bills and their monetary value is offset by their lack of character. They’re soft, they fade, they wrinkle, they tear. They work in society because we have agreed that they do, but it’s all a construct; a bill has little utility in the real, physical world. You can’t flip a bill to decide who gets the bigger piece of cake. You can’t mark a golf ball with a bill. You can’t open a beer bottle with a bill. Bills might work, but they just don’t feel right.

America today is a mechanized culture, and machines love quarters. People do, too. There is nothing more satisfying than dropping quarters into machines and watching them come to life. Everyone has had “problem bills,” the ones that have passed through so many hands that only people think they still have value. Machines have higher, heavier standards. Quarters do not wear thin.

College students value quarters more than most segments of society. The reason: laundry. “I’ve been trolling for quarters for five years,” said Matt Kolsky ‘03. “I know more about laundry woes than anyone.”

“I’ve been reduced to begging for quarters in a towel,” said Monica Boduszynski ‘04. “I’ll start the semester with a purse full of quarters, but my roommate and my boyfriend always steal them from me.”

The other side of this situation is explained by Izzie Smith ‘05: “I’ve never had a laundry problem before. My roommate comes to school with a few rolls of quarters and I borrow them all semester.” There is another factor, Smith admits: “I have a ton of clothes.”

In a survey conducted at Pomona’s Snack, 90 percent of students said that they regularly suffer from a shortage of laundry quarters. These respondents spoke of the sanctity of quarters; they transcend their monetary value, they claimed. Children’s author Shel Silverstein once wrote, “My dad gave me one dollar bill/‘Cause I’m his smartest son/ and I swapped it for two shiny quarters/‘Cause two is more than one!” Aaron Gilbert ’04 voiced a similar sentiment: “When someone gives me four quarters, it’s almost like they’re worth two dollars.”

There are many creative solutions to the quarter problem. Gilbert spoke of the “vending-machine” method that he learned as a freshman living in Walker: “You go to the soda machines with nickels and dimes and pump a handful in. Then you hit the return button and out come the quarters. It’s straight to the laundry room from there.”

“I buy things just to get change,” admits Brian Palmer-Rubin ‘04. “Then I go to my room and put them in my little quarter cup. I’m kind of obsessive about it.”

Isaac Zones ’04 relates his story: “Freshman year, my mom gave me an envelope full of quarters that lasted me until Christmas break. Since then I’ve become more complacent about acquiring quarters. These days, I’m trying to find a girlfriend so she can worry about it for me.”