new orleans was fun for somebody this weekend, just not me since the trip got pushed off a couple weeks; but now it’s time to get back to the business of trying to find a @#$! job…
…and “@#$!” means “fuckin'” for all who don’t speak cartoon.
tuesday also means bank day and i recently bailed on wells fargo and switched over to chase. why? ’cause i’m lazy…and the card the state of texas doles out unemployment on is a chase card, and it’s so easy to go in and say “pull all this off here and put it on here” and just set the two cards down and be done with it.
but lately it’s not that easy.
i don’t know why, but the two chase branches i go to (i can choose from 21 or 23 miles from my house – the only downside to using them) have these teller windows you see when you FIRST walk in. they’re RIGHT there. dead center of the lobby, which is all new and shiny…
…and the windows are unoccupied. all say “next window, please” with nobody at the next window, all the way down the line. no, you have to walk around the side, and to the back, to the two tucked away teller counters for the girls that work the drive thru – but to get there, you have to walk past all of THEM.
now i know how it felt to do the walk of shame in “sorority boys” – they just leer, and stare, and then POUNCE!
“hi, what are you here for today?”
oh, i just need to pull money out of one account and deposit in another…
“i can do that for you, step in here and have a seat”
i don’t want to take a fucking seat. your bank is a twenty-five minute drive from my house. i have to drive another twenty-five minutes after this to meet ME for coffee and cigars where we will then sit some more – i need SOME point in the am hours where my ass gets some blood circulation.
the first time they did it they tried to get me to open an account. i took the pamphlet, researched it a bit on my own, and decided i liked the idea, so i went back to set it up. the NEXT time they did it, the guy got what he wanted ’cause i just opened the account and away we went. but ever after makes NO sense. you have my account. you email every day with my balance. you text me if i drop into the red. hell, chase bank communicates with me more than some women i’ve dated.
but i survived my dull-ass solo birthday weekend…in theory i can make it through bank day as well, right?