Samson was an ordinary boy living in an ordinary home situated in an ordinary town. He was part of an upper class, white bread suburban family. He received a generous allowance from his parents at the beginning of each week to spend on whatever he pleased. Most young boys would spend that money on candy or dirty magazines without even dedicating a thought to what they were about do. Samson was different. He was a saver. He could pinch a penny so hard that by the time he finally let go of it, the year of production on the coin was nearly unreadable.
Samson's father was an accountant and his mother an actuary. Since birth, Samson knew that money was a precious thing, a depletable resource. "Once it's gone, it's gone. In order to get it back, you must work twice as hard as the first time it took you to get it" his father would tell him. A penny pincher indeed.
Samson held money so dear to his heart that he could tell you exactly what he spent his first dollar on as a child. Not only that, but he could tell you the date, time, place, and exact change he received from the transaction. In case you were wondering, he sticks with the fact that it was a two cent stamp purchased at the old post office at the corner of Richardson St. and Broadview Avenue on May 7th, 1977 at 10:43 am. It was a Saturday and he received 3 cents back from the transaction (he only had a nickle at the time).
As Samson grew older, his love for money grew stronger. At age twelve, while other kids were setting up lemonade stands on the street corner or finishing their daily paper route, Samson was borrowing his fathers type write to fill out tax reports for his teachers and neighbours.
At age sixteen, while most teenagers were flipping burgers or selling shoes, Samson was helping his father audit various businesses around town.
It wasn't until age nineteen that Samson really learned how preciouse and scarce money could be.