A fellow steemian has just cryptically told me that he now knows where I'm stashing my coins. I'm awaiting his response. But, this was my reply. I hope I hear back from him soon as the security guard has threatened to call the authorities many times. My only logical reply to him has been, "on what authority do you have to call more authoritative authorities whilst I attempt to authenticate my stash, sir" ? It's best to make counter accusations in these types of power struggles..
Dear Steemian.
Could you be so kind as to offer me a hint. I seem to have misplaced anything closely resembling what one might associate with a currency. I drove hours in the night to the only bitcoin ATM that exists in this financially limbo dancing district. The meeting didn't go as I'd planned. When I arrived at dawn the beast was locked away in a fancy glass building. I was denied access to the machine until a few hours and many coffees later. To my great relief this crypto box spoke my native tongue and asked prodding questions such as if I wished to deposit or withdraw funds to or fro.. I wasn't prepared for such an enigmatic and emotionally charged inquisition. In a panick, I yelled at the greasy touch screen to please accept these humble steem things I have tucked away on my digital journal I keep for safety. The silence was absolute, until the tapping of an unnerved and irritated foot broke the sanctity of my desperate appeal.
I turned around and saw a sharply dressed man in knockoff sunglasses sizing me up. I reciprocated the gesture, and added a judgemental scoff. Under my breath I said, "at least your glasses are polarised"
He replied, "excuse me" ? I made it clear that I knew his designer frames were a ruse and that his ability to not break his gaze tipped me off to the fact that his glasses had protected him from the vivid luminosity that was my essence.
Unimpressed he stepped forward and lowered his glasses. I turned up my shine from its previous setting of 5, all the way to a 9. Unfettered, the man asked me to step aside. Could this be one of the attributes of a bitcoin hodler? I'd never seen someone not succumb to the level 9 shine.
I obliged and congratulated the man. I went to the corner of the room and asked if I could stand as a witness to this strange transaction i had only heard tales of in gambling dens, and other depraved dens of decadence.
I took his ignoral as an affirmation to my request. Cautiously this possessor of polarised fake raybans dislodged a mass of blue and purple high gloss plasticised papers from his pants. These aren't bitcoins I exclaimed!
He fed the money into the mouth of this non verbal entity, punched some buttons, and then showed his phone to some sort of scanning device. He then arrogantly walked away, and said, "good luck with your steem" !
Strange things happen when you watch Hunter S. Thompson interviews and retype " A farewell to Arms" in an attempt to get the rhythm into your bones..
