I can find loose change almost anywhere. It hides down on the floorboard of my truck. It sleeps beneath the couch cushions. It lives inside the bowl on my bathroom counter.

Loose change has been an indispensable part of my life since I was old enough to sweep out my Uncle Robert’s school bus for a quarter. I came along at a time when a kid could carry a little bit of change in his pocket and buy himself a 10₵ Coke at Eastside Grocery.

I know. I know. A dime won’t buy anything anymore. A dime by itself adds up to a worthless rattle in your pocket. But if you get enough dimes together, then you might have something.

A few weeks ago, I gathered up all of my loose change, took it all to the bank, and left there with several new Benjamins to my credit.

There’s value in keeping up with one’s pocket change. I would ride my bicycle the three miles into Hampton. If I found any coke bottles along the edge of the road, Mr. Marvin would give me 3₵ a piece for them. If I could come up with five or six bottles, I’d have me enough money for a Coke and a Three Musketeers bar.

Nowadays, we live among those who don’t get very excited about dimes and nickels. Loose change is a bother. It’s like we’ve given up and hardly have any use for change at all anymore.

I saw a guy in the checkout line not too long ago. He reached for his cash. I thought, “Wow. A rare breed, like me.”

He dug into his pocket to see if he could make the correct change. A penny got away, hit the floor, and rolled a couple of feet behind him. He took one look and literally waved it off with his hand gesture, as if to say, “I could care less about a stinking penny.”

If it wasn’t so common, it would be laughable, but more times than not, when I’m paying for something at the cash register and my change due back is less than a dime, the cashier will ask me if I want my change. I can see the disdain in her eyes, like why would anyone care about a few stupid pennies.

They might as well say, “We know we owe you the change, but we’re hoping you don’t care so we can keep your 7₵ and put it in the bank tonight.”

Part of the reason that loose change has gotten such a bad rap of late is due to the fact that we are fast becoming a cashless society. Look, I’m not anti-credit cards, or whatever plastic cards. I’m just not completely reliant on the digital currency that so many seem to live by.

I still pick up coins off the pavement. I keep up with the loose change in my pocket. It adds up.

It’s easy to tap or swipe that little plastic card. And that’s fine if that’s what you choose to do. But just don’t act like the change doesn’t matter.

Like with our waitress the other day.

I love a good restaurant. The kind of sit-down restaurant where they charge a decent price, they serve good food, and you typically get good service. The waitresses and waiters work hard. A good one is worth a good tip.

But when I give the waitress more than the ticket calls for, I expect my change in return. Every penny of it. It’s pretty much that simple.

Marion and I have been out to eat twice now in the last couple of weeks. After this last one, I’m not sure that she will sit at the same table as me ever again. It’s not because I lose my cool or do anything outrageous. It’s just that I can’t stand to be short when it comes to my change.

Let’s say the waitress was great. And she was. She was spot on. Not overly friendly but charming enough.

When the meal was over, she turned the little table-top screen around so we could pay our bill. Now, at this point, most patrons will just suck it up and pull out the plastic. It’s quicker. There’s no confusion. You just get it done and leave.

Me? Like I said, I’m the guy fumbling for his wallet and digging in his pocket for loose change.

Let’s say the total for the meal came to $37.72.

First of all, there is no “cash” option on the little table-top screen. I had to flag down the waitress. She took my $40 and came back in a few minutes with two one-dollar bills, laid them on the table, and thanked me.

“What about the rest of my change?” I asked.

She looked puzzled. “I’m not sure I have any change,” she said.

“Would you mind looking?” I asked. “I’d appreciate it.”

I got two nickels and nine pennies back with an apology. “I’m sorry but this is the best I can do.”

Ten days later, almost the exact same thing happened at another restaurant. I got the green money back but not the coins. She owed me 18₵, so I asked for my change. When she returned, she handed me two dimes. According to eyewitnesses at our table, she had a scowl on her face.

Marion was holding her face in her hands, elbows on the table, shaking her head.

“There’s a principle at stake here,” I said.

I’m not worried about 18 pennies. I am not a Scrooge. But in neither of these two cases did anyone even acknowledge that there was a shortage. Maybe an honest mistake. Or worse case, someone was simply pocketing my loose change.

Today, I looked up the websites for both restaurants. I have never written to a restaurant before. I have never filled out a complaint card. I have never made a public scene over loose change. But I had reached the tipping point.

I wrote a small recap to each restaurant about my experiences. I asked about their policies when returning exact change from a bill paid in cash. I asked if I could offer to round down my bill on my next visit instead of paying the asking price of $15.49 on the menu.

Call me an old crab if you want. But I had my say and I figured that was the end of it.

Lo and behold, this afternoon, only about six hours after I hit the send button, my phone rang. It was Kevin, the manager, from one of the restaurants. He was a super nice guy and was very interested to hear my story in greater detail.

“I assure you, sir, that holding back correct change is not our policy. There are multiple resources available to our staff for making change. I will have a talk with the staff. Thank you for taking the time to let me know what goes on in my restaurant.”

I also got an email from Kevin, which contained a $25 gift card good at any of their sister restaurants.

I’ll be using his digital money next time.

Keep the change.