Friday, December 10, 2021

Believe Me, I Was As Shocked As You

Remember last Wednesday, when I tried to redeem my Series EE Savings Bonds over at our financial institution in Bill-Paying Town? Okay. Maybe you don't, because it's really not a very interesting way to spend an afternoon. Anyhoo, they said that their system wouldn't take the serial numbers as they tried to type them in. And that they'd give me a call when it worked.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Monday...

ON TUESDAY, I GOT THAT CALL!

Yeah. I guess it took a while for everybody higher-up than my Desk-Teller to get out of that meeting! She was very polite, and said their system was now ready to accept my bonds for redemption.

"Oh. Okay. I'll try to find a day when I can make it back down there. Thanks so much for calling."

You know, because I'm not gonna run out and jump in T-Hoe and speed 20 miles to do that the instant they rescind their rejection of my bonds. I have to get used to the idea again. Decide if I really want to get up EARLY to get over there and back before dark. Wonder if Farmer H might be roped into driving me again.

The more I thought about it, I decided that I really should get it done this week, because I'll have to start my Chex Mix making soon enough. I asked Farmer H, but all he does is fritter his time away over at Pony House. So I got up at the Not-Heavenish hour of 11:15, and got ready to leave the Mansion by 1:00 on Thursday.

I made it to the institution without incident. There was a parallel parking space on the side of the building, right where Farmer H had parked us before. Good thing there were TWO spaces. So I didn't have to back up at all. Just drove T-Hoe up through one space into another. I grabbed my folder and headed inside. I went to the first teller I came to.

"I know you don't do this, but I'm here to redeem some savings bonds. Last week I talked to Firstname Lastname."

"Oh, you need to see the receptionist."

RECEPTIONIST? I didn't see any receptionist. Oh. Sitting sideways in a kind of booth with plexiglass around the desk. What an odd place for a receptionist. Her back was to those who entered from the side street like me. Her side to the people at the teller counter. 

She pointed me straight across from her booth, to a desk beside the one I'd been at last week. Which was empty. I guess that gal had a day off. Or got fired for breaking the savings bond system.
 
Anyhoo... this new Desk Teller was good enough. She was polite. She took the copies I had from last week, of my ID and the death certificate. Then she had the nerve to say, "Um. I need the bonds." Well! I guess she was within bounds, asking for the bonds.
 
First thing she did was leave me and go to the back. I think they go take a stiff shot of whiskey so they can deal with those bonds. Then she came back and started pecking at her keyboard. So I used that time to text my sister the ex-ex-mayor's wife about Christmas Eve festivities. In about 20 minutes, I had to sign a paper. Then Desk Teller put my bonds in a little contraption that reminded me of a sideways see-through toaster, and they got sucked in one at a time. 
 
"Is that a copier?"
 
"No. It's a scanner."
 
What will they think of next? An actual toaster to serve the customers a snack while they wait?
 
My business was done easier and sooner than I expected. I'm still kind of in shock that somebody actually called me back like they promised. I wonder if a POOP BOX would be frowned upon as a token of my appreciation...

4 comments:

River said...

I think it would absolutely be frowned upon. and the next time they might just lose your bonds without payment, so send that poop box somewhere else.

Hillbilly Mom said...

River,
Okay, I'll find another deserving recipient for my POOP BOX. Right now the Tree-Trimmer Guy for Pony House is the front runner.

Sioux Roslawski said...

River is wrong. A poop box would be a delightful "thank you" gift. Not only is is not-really useful, but since they pooped on you by initially saying they could cash them... and then couldn't... and then finally did, the box is perfect.

Just think WWSD. That should guide all your decision-making...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
WAIT! How could I forget about YOU, Madam? There is really nobody I'd rather bestow my POOP BOX upon than YOU! WWSD does not apply in this situation, because someone as selfless as you would never ask for such a BREATHTAKING gift. Yes. I want YOU to have my POOP BOX. Keep an eye on your porch. You wouldn't want a porch-package thief to get it!