sparks across an ebony sky

Even Hansel and Gretel knew to leave a trail when they went wandering off on an adventure.
How else to find their way back home?
Yes, yes, I know their trail failed them.
The moral of THAT part of their story was: don't leave a trail that consists of substances others desire.

I prefer to leave a paper trail of my adventures.
These days, that means a series of charges on plastic cards, allowing me to retrace my steps and remember the fun along the way.
Sparks across an ebony sky, as the song says.
A comet through the electronic depths.

I admit, I prefer using plastic, at least partly, for safety reasons.
I want people to be able to know where I have been. In case anything ill should befall me, those in charge will be able to track down where I am, or at least be close.
I developed the habit of leaving a trail a long time ago, when I was a young, single woman traveling alone to foreign countries.
Actually, it goes back farther than that. My parents were always like reporters with their questions. Where I was going, who I would be with, what we would be doing, when I would return, how would I be traveling?
You know the drill, right? Almost everyone's parents are like that. Part of the desire to hurry-up-and-be-an-adult is to get away from those questions.
But, hopefully, the queries also instilled a sense of responsibility of self toward others. Someone should always know what you are doing, be it spouse, child, or best friend. Communication, y'all.

Another safety issue is the anonymity of cash. It all looks the same, regardless of ownership. My folding money and loose change looks EXACTLY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE'S. If it should fall from my pocket, who's to say whose it is? Unless I have written on the bills, or recorded the serial numbers, I have only my word against another's.
And in case of theft? The cash is gone, just gone.
On the other hand, if my credit card is stolen, I can cancel it and lose only the plastic it is made of.
I am a teacher at a state university in Georgia. That means I am poor.
My salary does not allow me to have sufficient funds to throw willy-nilly to the four winds.
The use of plastic assures that I will still be able to take care of my bills, to maintain my obligated expenses.

An added benefit of the use of plastic? No one can accuse you of skipping out on a bill. Your receipt is your proof of payment.
Always.

So, when the tour guide for the Key West Express gave me a difficult time about taking the balance of my payment in plastic, I was surprised.
A legitimate business that didn't accept credit cards?
In this age of The Square?
Really?
And for that business to give the customer a hard time about paying with a credit card... really?
After all, Lily of Key West Express is a woman, like myself, so she should be aware of safety issues.
Also, Lily is an OLDER woman, like myself, and that should have made her especially sensitive to safety concerns.
She was not.
In fact, she repeatedly tried to shame me, in front of the others on the bus, about my use of the credit card instead of cash. (She was totally unaware that the tactic was useless. If someone has no cash, then they are not going to be able to magically make any on a moving bus, are they? Then, again, if I had purchased the Money Making Machine trick at Old Town, that would have been sah-weet to whip out on her! What a joke that would have been! But I digress from my rant...)
How much money are we talking about? Not much. Less than thirty dollars.
Did I have that much cash, so I could have stopped her harangue?
Nope.
As I said, I don't use cash. Why should I? I'm not a dope dealer, a pimp, or an arms merchant, nor do I make my living out of sight of the IRS.
Perhaps the tour guide does.
There were easily forty people on the bus. At roughly fifty bucks a head, that's a very nice day's work.
And all, except me, paid her in cash.
She had told us that this was how she makes her living.
Life must be very good for her if, in this off-season for tourists, she is still able to pull in several thousand dollars a day.
In cash.
I don't make that much in a month.

Now, I have no receipt for my tour. No little piece or paper or special sticker to go into a scrapbook to mark the occasion.
No paper trail.
But I was able to use my credit card in Key West.
And I do have a magnet as a memento of that island.
And a receipt, too.
(smile)