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Lady, you’re ruining this beautiful bank with your indigestion.

Posted on February 18, 2012

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Friday was a beautiful dawn here in Cincinnati, Ohio. The perfect blue of the sky hid the fast that there were several clouds still clamoring around from the rain in the days before. I spent the first half of the day with the sunroof cracked open as I ran around town running errands.

One of these tasks was opening a new checking account. Now, had I had all my eggs in my basket before I left home I would have known that you needed your social security card in order to do so. Actually, I was told this by someone much smarter than me before I left. I grabbed the envelope labeled “Social Security Office” and headed out the door.

Of course, when I arrived at the bank I did not have the security card. I had my future forecasted earnings from the social security administration. Damnit. After going back home(showering & shaving for appearance sake) I headed out again clean & shiny with all my proper documentation.

Once at the bank I signed in and waited until a very sweet, and portly bank service representative led me into her office. We talked through the various options of checking this, checking that & blah as I realized why I detest banks so much; they are much too clean and have no smell. It seems like no one eats there. The carpet is nearly perfect and without crumbs or spills.

Even a hospital has a smell. Not the bank. Not mine anyway.

As she rambled on I finally told her, “You decide. I trust you’ll do what’s best.”

Then she burped. Really loud and I swear I could see the greenish fumes come out of her mouth. I tilted my head to the left as her stomach gurgled well above the acceptable level.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

I smiled kindly. I know what’s going on here…you’re stinking up this pristine bank. Don’t you see how clean this place is? They’ll fire you for it.

We carried on as she made copies of my ID and talked about the eastside of town that she lived on. We talked about the terrible traffic that she had to deal with every day and at some point I found myself giving her my thumbprint in the middle of some square. I was effectively being scanned, documented and delivered into a new account number. I wondered if this was how a terrorist felt before an extradition. Finger -printed. Scanned & assigned a serial number. Soon The guards would come for me. The black mask was coming.

Then she burped and I was lifted out of the elsewhere. The green fumes leapt from her mouth like a dragon spitting fire. “Wow. I’m so sorry” she said, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, it is Friday” I said almost simultaneously trying not to say something so stupid. But no matter what I said at least I wasn’t spitting toxic fumes.

“Yes it is! I can’t wait for the weekend. We’re so busy around here these days” she replied as if nothing had happened.

I nodded and thought that she must know best. The best thing is just to forget about the gas issue. She clearly was a lizard-like creature who had eaten too much tree bark for lunch. She quickly tilted her computer screen to show me the options she had selected and began to present me the instructions for how to set up the online bill pay for my account.

BRAAAHHHWW.

It happened again. I titled to the left as she glanced at me. I smiled as the fumes rose into the air. You’re ruining this beautiful bank with your indigestion lady. They will most certainly fire you for this.

“That’s the last time I eat three tuna sandwiches for lunch. And the break time they give us is way too short. You have to really eat them fast!” she smiled as she typed.

“Really? Maybe you should take an antacid or something?”

“No, I’ll be fine. It’ll pass soon enough.”

Yep. It will pass. & I will be very, very far away from this bank when you do pass it. If you still have a job then.

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Tagged: Bank, bank account, bank tellers, Belching, burping, checking account, Cincinnati, errands, Friday, gas, Identity document, Social Security Administration, Social Security number
Posted in: 0. The Daily Grind
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