Cooling my heels at the gas pump at Costco this morning, I listened to a couple of guys puzzling over the one thing that puzzles us more these days than sex—I mean money. One guy in particular: from the sign on his truck, I gather was a beekeeper, but from the sound of his conversation he could have been a bookkeeper (ka-voom!): he knew the price of gasoline in Canada and the pound-dollar exchange rate. He knew that Germany was about the only economic engine in the European community, and said he figured that it was only a matter of months before the Euro went into the tank.
I suppose I could blow him off as just another talker except that, anticipating some foreign travel, I bought some Euros a few months back and so far I've lost a packet. Maybe I should have listened to the beekeeper.
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