I wanted chocolate. I stood in front of the vending machine at work, five cents short. I could not use the 1955 nickel I held in my hand. I received it with my change that morning from the coffee shop, and I knew as soon as I saw its date that it would go directly to my collection at home of nickels minted during the 1950s. It wasn't a shiny collection. Most of the nickels had permanent spots of grime the color of old gum stuck to pavement. Worn and dull, almost every 1950s nickel I have encountered has made it to my collection.

"Oh well." I sighed aloud and turned to go back to work. Keith, the bank manager was right behind me.

"That was a dramatic sigh, the machine rip you off?"

"Nope, nothing looks good." I shrugged and headed back to work.

"Hey, hang on a minute," Keith's chocolate bar fell from the top row of the vending machine. "Warren is having a television commercial filmed for the bank and he wants you to be the face of our branch."

I laughed. "I'm the receptionist. I've been here a month. How can I represent the branch?"

"Warren thinks you're perfect for the TV spot." Keith enthused.

"I met Warren once and he thinks I suck at my job. He said I need to answer calls with more gusto' in my voice." I rolled my eyes and remembered another reason I did not like Warren. He received his adult magazines at the bank's post office box.

"You don't have to talk, you just have to sit behind a desk and smile. Susan is taking care of the voice-over. And you'll be paid three hundred bucks."

"Huh?" I gasped. "How do I sign up?"

"Consider it done. I'll let Susan know. She'll meet with you this afternoon and give you all the details."

Susan showed up at my desk two hours later and introduced herself. We had already met nearly a month ago. She was Warren's wife and while she had the nicest office in the bank she did not spend a lot of time there.

"Keith tells me you majored in sociology?" She shook my hand briskly, her bony fingers cutting into mine.

"Yes, I finished school in May."

"That's fantastic. We're happy to have you working for us. So Jan has agreed to cover the phones for you. Would you mind coming to my office so we can discuss the television commercial?" It was not a question, she was walking upstairs.

I trotted up the stairs to Susan's office. "Have a seat," she said curtly. "So, do you find ways to utilize your sociology degree here?"

"Well, I've only been here a month."

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