About Bank “I speak Crazy fluently”

You saunter up to my window with your wig rotated 45 degrees off its axis?

Imma I think you’re crazy.

You have a questionable substance dribbling down your chin that I’m afraid to draw to your attention for fear of what it might be?

Imma think you’re crazy.

You crash into my station with a smile that is way too upturned and eerily vacant eyes?

Imma think your bat-shit crazy and hide under my desk until you leave.

There is a customer who comes in who I’m not going to give an alias to because I don’t even know her real name. I’m so distracted by her odd, hysterical behavior that I’ve never noticed what it is.

She is a short African woman who moved to this country a few years ago, and her English occasionally needs some brushing up, but I usually communicate with her very well. If anything inhibits communication it’s her ability to go from 0 to Brittney in under a second. If anything is going wrong with her day or her transaction she makes this high-pitched “EEeeeeeeee” noise and shakes. Her voice is naturally high-pitched already so this makes it very hard to a. not laugh a little and b. hear what she is saying.

Yesterday she came in, wig askew, substance dried on her face, as I just described. I really should of said something, I know that now, but she was smiling and I didn’t want to ruin her good mood and have to face her usual panic attack. So, I was a bad Samaritan and asked how she was and what I could help her with instead. I was depositing some money into her account when she noticed these cute piggy banks we have on display that we give to people who open new accounts.

The transaction was ruined; the piggies had set her off.

“Eeeeeeeee what is that?!?”

I was thrown off by her sudden excitement, “What?! OH… those are for people who open new accounts.”

She started laughing (I wish I could tell you why), “Eeeeeeeooooooouuuuu but I already have an account!”

I responded, “I understand and I’m sorry about that but we don’t have enough to give them out to current account holders too.”

“Oooooooooooo!” she screamed. She then saw a bank pen I had on my counter and grabbed it, “Eeeeeee, I’m gonna take this then!!!” She was joking in the scariest way I had ever seen, wielding the pen like a dagger.

I replied, “…you can take it, they’re for the customers!” Well, you would’ve thought I just gave her a million dollars!

“EeeeeeeeEEEEEEeeeeEEEE!” And she brought the pen to her chest, hugging it, and ran out of the bank before I could change my mind.

It’s the little things, I guess.

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