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This is my adopted goth fetus named "Cringe". Hooray fetus!
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| The Credit Union |
| 02.24.06 (10:10 pm) [edit] |
I went to the bank today. It is pay day.
I brought forth my pay cheque from a legitemate business, from a legitemate and reputable bank in the USA. I was thinking how nice it will be to be able to pay my mortgage, while waiting in line.
I took the opportunity to look around at the ordered chaos that this bank was currently in. It seems that some renovations were on the go, and though the wickets seemed to be the only thing not undergoing some sort of transformation, their pristine presence was somehow out of place.
I patiently waited, quietly ammused by the blurred silhouettes that I was able to observe behind a giant wall of transparent plastic. One rather portly man...well, maybe a little larger than portly was working near a large yellow ladder. I was musing at the different sizes that people come in, as well as entertaining various other flippant thougts.
Finally, the lady who was somehow managing to look too busy to help me, asked me to step forward. I did so with a friendly, confident smile, which I was positive would ensure me a more pleasant experience than the one I had last time, when I got belittled by the male teller that was currently working at the next wicket. For my efforts, I was immediately rewarded a bored expression held in a pair of the most frigid blue eyes I've ever seen.
I handed over my cheque and asked politely if I could cash it. She asked for my account number, which (of course) I don't know by heart since it is a new account, and not my primary bank at that. Regardless, as the sassy male teller had informed me on that previous occasion, 98% of all clients know that number by heart, and therefore I am apparantly such a burden to them that I get rolling eyes every time without fail when I tell them I don't know it. I handed over my bank card so that she could look up the information that she needs.
Abruptly, the frosty blonde stands up and leaves, cheque in hand. So I stand there, staring at the bank of video cameras that are pointed directly at me. Tapping my fingers and trying to look unconcerned, my palms were sweating. I thought that this must be how a bank robber might feel while trying to look easy and confident while panicking inside.
Then...my fears were realized. "We can't cash this." she says to me. "Because you have a new account and it's a US cheque, we'll have to send it to collections and it might take up to a month to get back."
WELL!! I stood up straight and drew in a deeeep breath. Then I breathed fire right into that ice queen's face, melting her instantly into a goopy puddle of human slop. I then tore off my friendly, confident smile and revealed my twisted sneer of anger and frustration. I gave that manager a whole new kind of smile. One she could really interpret, if you know what I mean. After I had taken care of the snotty male teller in a most inventive and fun way, I turned to the plastic wall and the people working like little doozers behind it. I had time to imagine what was going through their minds as they stood there, mesmerized by the foggy, blurry spectacle that was unfolding on the other side of that sheet. For some reason, I really liked these guys. They were no big thing. They were just poor ole workin' guys, just like me. They didn't pretend they were the shit. They didn't dish out egocentric attitude to those who were paying their wages. They are just doing the best they can to earn an honest living...trying to scratch out the best living they could. Just like me. I reached through a hole that had somehow materialized during the episode, and gently poked the big man's belly button, murmering "tickie tickie tickie!!".
But I didn't stop there...oh no. When I set up this account, I was told that there would be NO HOLDS!! NO PROBLEMS!!! LIES! So, I decided to go see the lady responsible for this fiction. A Gareau...yes. One of my own.
She greeted me with a nervous smile. And I smiled back. "I'm having a rather negative experience here at your bank." I told her calmly. "I'm not really very happy." She then proceeded to EXPLAIN it to me. I listened to this for a while, but in the back of my mind, I was wondering what would happen if....
Once she had a new orifice, she agreed to cash my cheque and sent me on my way.
Gawd...the world would be so much less messy if people would just quit fuckin' with me.
SNEEVIL
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posted by: Reetha (reply)
post date: 03.26.06 (12:27 pm)
You really Gotcha nice blog here
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