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Don't you just hate it when you crack open a roll of halves, edge-check, and spot two silvers? And then they turn out to be 1971's! Grrrrhhh
Don't you just hate it when every box of your new penny order... turns out to be new pennies?

When it's the peak of the Midwestern winter and my bank 4 wheel cart or dolly isn't available and I'm trying to carry 3 $100 bricks of nickels across an icy parking lot. Gravity won that battle. I ended up on my rear and the rolls were rolling and sliding on the ice.

Rounded up everything and decided I wasn't hurt (only my pride since I was certainly on the bank's security cameras) and thought maybe the god of roll searching would be kind to me since I'd paid my dues that morning. Nope. I was snorked, as they say. No warnix, only a few non-stellar examples from the 1940s. About half of the bunck were what I call "casino nickels." They must have been used in a casino before the coinless machines and were the finest examples of damaged coins I've seen in quantity.

Oh well.

I just hate it when: I drive to my dump credit union on a Saturday and the coin counter is out if service.

I turn to dump the zincs into the zinc bag and realize as they are falling (slow motion...) that I've just dumped 1000 zincs into my half full copper bag.

Your favorite bank branch, with the best tellers around decides to close.

When the coin counter is filled half way through my dump and only bank employee with the key is out to lunch. They misplaced the other key BTW.