After the bank broke my appointment they had made for me, and reminded me of three times... I headed to their drive-thru to do business as they commanded me. My original APPOINTMENT was for 1:15. No way was I going to accommodate the bank and their Indian-giving appointment-reneging ways. I'd show up when I was good and ready. Too bad, so sad that they had "double-booked" the 1:15 time slot, but only wanted to cancel MY appointment.
I arrived at 1:25. My bank is small. It has 3 drive-thru lanes. I chose the one on the outer edge, by the grassy strip and the alley, lest I start to feel claustrophobic while trapped between the concrete islands with angry, would-be, drivers-thru behind me. There was not a car in this lane. There was a truck in the one next to it. And the innermost one by the building was empty.
I pushed the SEND button to open the clear drop-down window that protects the canister (from theft?). It opened said-a-me, and I took it out (heh, heh, that's a reference for my Seinfeldian buddy Madam).
This new canister opens all funky. You squeeze a little black flip-lever thingy in the middle as the canister is laying on your lap. The whole side of the cylinder opens. I rolled up my death certificate (actually my MOM'S), so as not to fold it. I laid in my four Series EE Savings Bonds. I laid in my driver's license, two dollars, a withdrawal slip, and a notecard list of the three functions I hoped to accomplish. Buy four rolls of pennies, withdraw cash from my account, redeem the bonds.
The canister was sent through the tube. I readied myself for a wait. The Teller said she would be with me in a minute. While waiting, a truck pulled up behind the already-waiting truck. The new one was a diesel. Rattling loudly as diesel engines do. It STUNK! I could feel the carbon monoxide building in my blood. You'd think I could get fresh air, outside under a roof. But I guess the roof held in the exhaust, and the wind was conspiring against me.
The original truck completed its transaction and left. Putting that stinky loud rattletrap beside me. I was miserable, but passed the time by turning up my radio again and again, and balancing my checkbook. At least no other cars got in line. I will make a note that Thursdays at 1:25 might be a good time to go to the bank.
At 1:45, the Teller announced that she was sending out a paper for me to sign and date, and a couple of my rolls of pennies. The tube made its humming sound. The clear door opened. BUT NO CANISTER DROPPED DOWN.
I waited. And waited. Finally, I had to push the SEND button to talk to the Teller.
"Nothing came out."
"Oh. It's not wanting to go through. You'll need to pull around front. I'll bring it out."
Who saw THAT coming! This ol' gal, that's who! I drove around front and parked. Funny how there were three cars there, besides the regular two that are usually there. A white van and a repo, on opposite ends. As I watched in the mirror for the mysterious Teller (I can't see in their tinted windows), I saw THREE WOMEN come out the door. Two were old, one with a cane. A third was middle-aged. All were wearing masks, a requirement for inside APPOINTMENTS. They hobbled to their cars.
I CRY SHENANIGANS! Why were THEY allowed inside? Did they perhaps have a suitcase full of money to deposit? A transaction with documents to sign? There were THREE of them! Those cars had been there since I drove into the around-back drive-thru.
Here came my Teller. She locked the door behind her with a key. Can't have anybody breaking in for an APPOINTMENT, you know! Teller walked through the just-started rain sprinkles, and handed the document in T-Hoe's window. It only had a smattering of rain spots on it. I signed and dated (with my own pen, not touching theirs!), and handed it back.
"Sorry you had to come out in the rain."
"Oh, that's no problem. I was frying in there. It feels good to get outside."
Teller put that document BETWEEN HER KNEES, and gave me the four rolls of pennies, my copy of the document, the death certificate, a receipt for my withdrawal, and TWO envelopes of cash.
"I kept your cash withdrawal separate from your bond money."
"Oh. I wanted the BOND MONEY deposited in my account."
Which I could have told her, had I been present at an inside APPOINTMENT, and not sitting in a Tahoe breathing deadly carbon monoxide and having my eardrums beaten by a knocking diesel engine.
"I'll take it in and deposit it, and bring you the receipt."
Which she did. I thanked her. The whole process took 30 minutes. Teller was cheerful and polite. She must have been the one I berated earlier when she canceled my appointment, while not faulting her personally.
So the NON-APPOINTMENT went pretty much without a hitch, and I was catered to sufficiently to soothe my ego. But I still call favoritism on the bank, for allowing those other three women inside. I guess the bank didn't want to make sure THEY were safe...
6 comments:
Wait. Did they triple-book appointments? Three people having the same appointment time? Something smells fishy.
And you took IT out? You took it OUT? YOU took it out? Did it shrink like a frightened turtle when you took it out?
(By the way, on one of your blogs, you recently mentioned the song "Anticipation." Do you know who Carly Simon wrote that song about?)
The one hobbling with a cane, yes, she can have an appointment where she gets to sit inside, but the other two? Not fair. And I don't think diesel belching trucks should be allowed into a drive through lane either, but I guess they need to do their banking somehow. At least you got everything handled satisfactorily this time.
Sioux,
I can't explain that Appointment Trio, but they all came rushing out like kids at the afternoon dismissal bell!
I don't know how bank drive-thrus stand around with those things!
The song ANTICIPATION was most likely written about your little brother, Warren Beatty! Oh, wait! HE'S so vain. All I can think of is that it was written for a future ketchup commercial...
***
River,
I hobble WITHOUT the assistance of a cane! I demand special treatment.
Besides, the Caner would have been more comfortable not ever leaving her car. So they did her a disservice by NOT-CANCELING her appointment!
At this point, I'm surprised they didn't let the diesel truck INSIDE with an appointment. To really put my nose out of joint.
Yes, everything went well this time. I hate to think about my experience when I go back in December to finish out the year's bonds. I'm pretty sure I wont' get an appointment, and pretty sure I won't get the cheerful teller.
Nope. This beau had a "feline" first name... and now he has a completely different one.
Sioux,
I'm not pickin' up what you're layin' down! I don't know any famous people named "Socks" or "Puss-Puss!"
Sioux,
WAIT! I GOT IT!
CAT STEVENS!
I was driving to town, and it hit me at 1:15, by the sheep field where the dog used to guard them. I was running over celebrities back in the day, who might have dated Carly Simon. I first thought of Jackson Browne, but no, that was Daryl Hannah. So then I thought of (governor) Jerry Brown. But that was Linda Ronstadt. And then with no rhyme nor reason, CAT STEVENS popped into my head.
Strangely enough, five minutes later "Cat's In the Cradle" came on the radio. I don't think that alone would have solved the mystery for me. I guess my subconscious knowledge came out when I was gamboling down a rabbit trail, thinking about other celebrity couples.
Now if THIS is the wrong guess... I give up!
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