I don't count. I'm like the dollar coins the bar owner puts into the jukebox to make the rummies fill up the hopper with their dimes and quarters.
(It occurs to me that line is a little cryptic and probably needs some explanation. My dad owned a bar in St. Paul when I was a kid. One Saturday I was there -- I was often there, apparently the laws were a little...different...back then, or more likely, no one was paying attention -- anyway, the jukebox man came to change out some of the records and take his cut of the money. But when they were splitting up the money - which was mostly dimes and quarters - he pushed about a dozen silver dollars into my old man's pile. When I asked why, he told me the bar owners always used silver dollars to get the music started. Apparently it was some kind of understanding or arrangement bar owners had with the jukebox guys back then, and the silver dollars went back to the bar. So after the jukebox guy left I asked my dad, "What if someone besides you puts a silver dollar in there?" He said, "Then I'd get it," and he smiled. But then he said, "Look around man, no one in here is going to put a dollar in a jukebox." So there's a long explanation for a one-liner.)