OK, so it's a busy place. I understand that it's not anyone's fault, in particular (although in my book they should have far more teller windows open than four or five when they are so god-awful busy, but who knows? Maybe they can't afford to hire more people). If I could find another place to go, I would do so. I can't, so I have to suffer through the long lines. I have resigned myself to this fact. However, there is one teller who just pisses me the hell off, babies. I watch her every time I go in there; she's always there (well, at least she's a seemingly reliable employee). She's at window #10. And she is slow as molasses in winter. Not only is she slow, she's intentionally so.

When someone leaves any teller window at this credit union, the teller hits a little doo-hickey which makes a sign at the head of the long-ass line of people waiting for bank services flash and tell the line-waiters which window is now open to assist them. When this particular teller finishes with one customer, she then takes an additional three minutes or so to piddly-fart around at her window so that she doesn't have to hit the little doo-hickey and therefore doesn't have to assist any other customers for that time. This with a long-ass line of increasingly irritated people standing in front of her.

If I wasn't always in a huge hurry after doing my bank business (cuz I've aleady been standing in line for like 45 minutes) I would have complained about her long before now. Some day I will take the extra few minutes and do so.

Long ago, when I worked at a credit union for six years, I used to travel to all of the branches and train people. Not only did I train, though, I also wrote up evaluations for each branch on an annual basis.

(See? I've always been that person at work that everybody hates.)

This branch would NOT have done well in my evaluations; especially teller #10.

I'm lucky I even found the damn credit union today. In the month - count 'em, 31 days - since I've been to this particular branch, someone has built a sparkling new Starbucks on the corner. Since I'd never seen it there before, I didn't realize at first that I was in the right place.

You'd think I were joking, but I ain't.

Aside from the fact that a Starbucks just startlingly appeared from nowhere all of a sudden (open and everything - not even in the construction stage!), here's the thing that you need to know about me for this to fully compute: I don't know street names.

My mind is really like an Atlas. I'm very good at finding my way around; with directions, with funky directions, with no directions. I rarely get lost. However, it is very difficult for me to give people directions anywhere because I do not know most street names. My directions can often sound like this:

"Turn left at the big tree with the low branches then go straight for about half a mile until you get to that store with the funny-looking man on the sign. That's where you turn right..."

Stuff like that.

Therefore, when a landmark such as a Starbucks appears out of nowhere and totally obscures my view of the Fifties Diner at which I used to make a right turn, my world is thrown askew.

~~~

So I talked to Barbi and boy howdy am I glad I didn't go to my Mom's yesterday. Sondra was apparently in rare form. Even Amy finally snapped at her, I guess. Ah...God Bless this sickness.

~~~

And you know what's really depressing? It's not the fact that the Space Shuttle blew up...it's the fact that in all of the diaryland entries about it, people keep reminiscing about when Challenger exploded and they were in freakin' grade school and their teacher interrupted "story time" to break the news.

I was twenty, people. TWENTY. *sigh*

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~~~~~~~~~~~peace, love and smooches~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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Copyright 2002-2005, Howl-at-the-Moon Words



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