Sacred Haven of Debauchery

I had a huge stash of small change accumulated during my teenage years. I cut a slit in the lid of a "Nesquik" tin can and threw all the coins I could find into it. It took about two kilograms of metal to fill it up, and it took a whole year. But over time, the can became increasingly heavy. One day, I couldn't put any more change in because it was completely full. Then I started selling some of the coins to my father in exchange for banknotes. He really liked the change; maybe he felt like a rich man, jingling the heavy twenty-coin pile in his wallet. He even meticulously counted and spent the change in stores. Then he left the family, and I lost that convenient exchange point. This summer, sitting with no banknotes in my pocket and no cold beer in the fridge, I thought: it's time to cash in. As a result, in a month and a half, my savings decreased in volume by exactly three-quarters, or four times. I get the desired drink, the stores get the change they are always short of, the sellers get the rare mental exercise of counting one and two-ruble coins, the state gets economic stimulus and improvement, and the piggy bank gets space for an endless stream of new change, which will undoubtedly accumulate very soon. It should be noted that at first I spent only five-ruble coins, but they ran out after a while.