Money, Money, Everywhere, But Oh So Hard To Withdraw

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's financial woes continue. Don't get me wrong. There is plenty of money. It's getting ACCESS to my money that's the hardship.

Last week, I went by my bank to withdraw some money for our weekly cash allowance. I figured I'd just use the ATM, since I wasn't taking out a lot. Not too much for that new version of the ATM to count, and not cheat me out of a twenty this time. Besides, the drive-thru tellers might ask if I'd recently updated my ID again...

But when I went to the bank ATM, a guy standing out of his truck wouldn’t leave. You know, one of those people who don't reach through the window, but park and get out to do the ATM. Then a bank lady, and another man, came walking around the corner of the building, and THAT guy started motioning for all of us in line to go away.

“The machine is empty! Out of money!” We believed him, I don’t know why. He looked like a regular customer, and was carrying money in his hand. Not nearly enough to fill an ATM. I think it only opens once a day, at a designated time. Because when I’ve forgotten my card in it, they tell me I have to come back the next day, and a certain time. That they can’t just open it up. That darn Even Steven! He’ll give me pennies, but deny my weekly cash allowance! I had to go park and write up a withdrawal slip for the drive-thru, because all the parking spaces in front were full. Thank the Gummi Mary, I did NOT back into a guy with a crazy meth beard, and a pitbull on a chain.

I went to our credit union over in Sis-Town, to withdraw money for The Pony's budget for March. I write him a check from our bank account, and replenish our money with cash from his college savings. Easy peasy, right? Usually, it IS.

However…when I went to the credit union to withdraw the money, there was a man backed into one of the three parking spaces in the little parking lot on the side. He had his truck door open, leaning against the seat, smoking. I parked in the handicap space, so as not to be right next to him.

Wouldn’t you know it! The gal who gave me the money asked if I wanted the receipt. Of course I did. Instead of just pushing it out the little window scoop with the bills, she FOLDED IT AROUND THE MONEY! Like a wrapper on a packet of bills from the bank. THREE FOLDS.

The problem with that is that it prevented me from folding the bills in half and sticking them in my shirt pocket, out of sight. I didn't want to fiddle with them at the window. It's an almost non-existent waiting area. Other customers are practically up against you like a queue of new recruits getting their army physicals and vaccinations.

If I’d known that camo weirdo was going to still be parked out there, I would have stepped aside and taken the bills out of the receipt to put them in my pocket. Safer inside than outside. But no. I put the awkward long bills in my jacket pocket. Then I had to take them out when I got to T-Hoe, because it’s difficult to try and get something out of my left pocket when I have the door closed and am sitting behind the wheel.

I could feel Camo Weirdo robbing me with his eyes. Which is the least of many evil scenarios, I suppose.