Walking to work…

Kicked a rock that turned out to be a small piece of dog poo. Nailed it.

Quotation of the Night

“The human race if faced with a cruel choice: work or daytime television.” -Unknown

source: quotationspage.com

About Bank: I miss racial profiling

Yes, I stopped working at my lovely bank two weeks ago but, I’m sorry, there are still so many gems of poo I have yet to share. Here is an exchange I had with a costumer who did not speak dat Inglersh very well.

As I’m giving him his money and ending the transaction…

Customer: Puerto Rican.

Tootsie: Excuse me?

Customer: Puerto Rican? You? Puerto Rican?

Tootsie: Ohhhh, no. No, I’m not Puerto Rican.

…

Customer: White! WHITE PEOPLE!

…

Tootsie: Yes… I’m white. Have a nice day!

Advertisement

About Bank: “Adieu, adieu, to you, and you, and you-hoooo”

Today is my last day at my bank. Sad face emoticon.

Initially I had counted down the days to when my 2 month long 2 weeks would be up (it was really that long, I’m not being cutesy) but now I find myself being dragged out of the vault, talons out, baring my fangs, chest heaving, using a letter opener as a deadly weapon and stuffing money into my bra.

I DON’T WANT TO GO! DON’T MAKE ME GO! PLEAAAASSSEEE!

It feels like camp! You know that camp phenomenon where you can be having the worst time of your life, mosquito bites forming a veritable crop circle on your back, with enough shameful hand-in-a-glass-of-warm-water-until-you-pee-during-your-sleep experiences to wallpaper your bathroom, and then comes the time to go home and you just CAN’T. And there you are, with the same bastard that put your hand in the warm water, hugging and crying and asking for their screen-name so you can put them on your “buddy list” when you’re home! You also listen to THIS, a lot.

Well, that is exactly how I feel now and it is so depressing. The end of Cold Mountain, depressing, where (SPOILER ALERT) you watch the whole effing, 10-hour movie, waiting for Inman and Ada to finally be together and he dies. And so do your dreams. And your patience. And your tissue supply.

New Movie from Dreamkillers

What other job could I possibly have where I could come home with the stories that I have?! What I’ve had the opportunity to share in this blog doesn’t even scratch the surface! I mean, a customer once proudly showed me his stab wound!

And I’m also going to miss the people I work with even though they tormented me for months! Leaving Shamus, alone, will lead to a hard-core break-down that will most certainly include a self-deprecating, Cold Mountain marathon accompanied by the new Ben and Jerry’s flavor Schweddy Balls, which I’ve been dying to try actually…

mouth-wateringly good...?

So, as I begin the day, I must keep my chin-up, remember all the good times (like when that guy threw-up pure Vodka in the lobby at 9 am) and make sure I get everyone’s screen names so we can K.I.T (keep in touch) while we H.A.G.S. (have a great summer). Also, the fact that they are getting me drunk as a parting gift doesn’t hurt either.

Quotation of the Day

“Quit now, you’ll never make it. If you disregard this advice, you’ll be halfway there.” -David Zucker

About Bank: “Twas but a moment of laughter”

Today was the first of the month and my bank was overrun with pushy customers all day long as they were there to retrieve the Social Security checks that had been direct deposited into their accounts. Let me tell you, this is NEVER a fun day. My bank, which is usually low-key, with enough customer’s to keep you from getting sucked into one of the millions of websites that offer pictures of adorable sleeping puppies, while never so busy that there are more than 2-3 customers in line.

All that changes on the first of the month. I’ve seen awful, horrible, cruel, cruel things on this day and from open to close there is a line from wall to wall. To just add to the horror of the day there was a dead cat in the alleyway behind the bank which, though totally unrelated to my job, was VERY UPSETTING, OK?!

Well in the midst of all that wretchedness, including a customer that threatened me over the phone for someone else destroying his abandoned debit card, there was a customer who came in during a moment of uncustomary silence. I’ve talked to him before and the only thing I had remembered about him was that he had named almost all of his children after himself which I thought was over-doing things just a tad. But today he said something so funny it stuck with me all day and just might have been the only thing that kept me from punching several of my customers (have I mentioned I shouldn’t have a job where good customer service is must?). Right after I had almost cried into a twenty due to sheer exhaustion he said…

“I have 17 kids, 28 grand-kids, and 2 great-grand-kids…AND I’M STILL A VIRGIN, AHAHAHA!”

And it is shit like that that makes my job bearable and, on occasion, enjoyable.

About Bank: “Hace frio afuera pero adentro…”

Translation: It’s cold outside but in here…

This is the story of the only proposal I have received thus far and, yes, I do mean “marriage proposal.

His name is Carlos Soledad** and he is Puerto Rican, doesn’t speak any English, is a little on the short side, and…what else? What else could I possibly say about him…? Hmmm… Oh. Right. He’s 70 years old. Maybe 75. Ok, he is  at least 75 and maybe older. In other words the only way I could possibly see his proposal as being a genuine one is if I saw his bank account and, oh wait, I have…I’ll stick to maidenhood for now. Though maybe I’ll also stick to not using the word maidenhood regularly as I’m fairly certain I’m misusing it.

A few weeks ago “my” Carlos came into the bank. I think he might be experiencing the early stages of dementia as he always seems to be a little foggy. As one of the few people who spent their youth, we’re talking ages 12-15, working in a nursing home and serving meals to dementia patients I feel comfortable with that diagnosis. It also always takes him a little while to get talking so there is an adjustment period of an eternity 3-5 minutes where he stands out my counter in silence looking at me blankly which I deal with the only way I know how, in uncomfortable silence (stay tuned for my self-help book, How to Make the Most Joyous of Occasions Awkward with a Lack of Tact and an Abundance of Saturday Night Live References, or the abreviated HMMJOALTASNLR if that’s easier).

After he was up to speed on the whole being in a bank thing I asked him how he was…here is a translation…and keep in mind that I really am speaking the Spanish of a 5-year-old, not because I am treating Carlos like a child but because that is actually how un-fluent I am…

Tootsie: Hi!

Carlos: Hello…how are you?

Tootsie: I’m good, how are you?

Carlos: Bad.

Tootsie: Bad? Why?

Carlos: Because I don’t have a woman.

Tootsie: Oh…I’m sorry…?

Carlos: Are you married?

Tootsie: …Um…no…

Carlos: Will you marry me?

Tootsie: Sorry, I don’t think I can…

Carlos: Why not?

Thus began a sad little game of “Why can’t you marry me?” And “I just can’t,” of course ignoring the fact that this was a poor little old man who had either watched way too many Hugh Hefner documentaries or was totally unaware of the fact that he wasn’t an eligible 20-year-old anymore. I eventually had to send him on his way, unsatisfied, and bride-less.

Today Carlos returned. He approached my window slowly, finally arriving and taking the customary 3-5 minutes to realize that he was, once again, in a bank. I had more trouble than usual understanding him today because he was not so much chewing a piece of gum as he was letting it hang limply out of his mouth.

Tootsie: Hello, how are you doing today?

Carlos: It is cold outside but in here it’s hot.

Now, this is a moment where a better understanding of Spanish would have been helpful. Was he genuinely referring to the nice heating that the bank offered or was he a cute little old man who was trying to flirt?

I asked him to repeat what he said because I thought I might have not heard him properaly and he said it again, but this time let me say it in Spanish (I wish I knew how to do accents on this!)…

Carlos: Hace frio afuera pero adentro esta calientita.

The word for hot is caliente, as most know, but he was doing the cutesy “calientita.” Oh Carlos. Cutesy has an age-requirement. The cut-off is a little fuzzy and varies greatly from person to person, though it usually falls somewhere between the first time you find yourself covered in your own child’s poop and the first time the concept of adult diapers sounds like maybe, a tiny bit, sorta, kinda like a good idea…maybe…Carlos was way beyond either option.

He than asked how much was in his account.

Tootsie: Ten.

Carlos: What?

Tootsie: Ten.

Carlos: How’s that?

Tootsie: Ten.

Carlos: Huh?

Tootsie: Ten! You have ten dollars! There is ten and some change in your acount!

Carlos: Ten.

Tootsie: Right.

And that is the man I almost married. Whether I like it or not, my first proposal will always be with Carlito in an inner-city bank, with a man who probably forgets me every time he leaves the door to purchase more gum he is not going to chew fully. He certainly set the bar high. In all honesty it was pretty adorable…maybe I should’ve said yes…after-all, this–

used to be this–

About Bank: “You get one phone call”

An unfamiliar ID is slammed down on my counter.

I look down to read:

Inmate ID #27586

Cute Puppies Correctional Facility**

I look up to see:

Mean looking man with buzzed hair and tattoos encircling his neck like a gruesome scar.

Customer: I need to cash a check.

Tootsie Woo: Ok, do you have an account with us?

Customer: No, but it’s written off of you guys!

Tootsie Woo: That’s fine, that’s fine, I will just need two forms of ID from you.

Customer: What?! Two forms? Like what?!

Tootsie Woo: Well, we’d accept a driver’s license, state ID, employee ID, student ID, Passport, vehicle registration, armed forces ID…um…

Customer: I don’t have any of those, this is all I have! (he indicated his Inmate ID that I wasn’t even allowed to use, yikes)

Tootsie Woo: Ok…(think fast Tootsie, think fast, get on your tippy toes to look more intimidating)…you don’t have anything else?

Customer: This. Is. All. I. HAVE. I just got out of prison TODAY!

And he brought out the big guns, just like that.That was the look on my face when he said that, by the way.

How can you just throw that at a person, a complete stranger no less, and expect them to recover?!

I’ll have you know I have a lot of customers who have just been released from jail (that very day) and they have come to cash checks that they were given by the jail, so that it’s not like that experience is new to me. I’ll admit, the first time it happened I was on my guard (despite feeling bad for judging a person I didn’t even know) but they were so embarrassed and apologetic that that was their only ID we both quickly got over it. It usually does become a very sticky situation because none of them have valid ideas because they are take from them when they are incarcerated and all they are left with are these Inmate IDs that I’m not even allowed to take as a form of identification. This usually leads to me pleading their case to my manager, Silver Panther**, who then agrees to cash the check.Though, I CANNOT CASH THEM WITHOUT APPROVAL.

I repeat, I’ve done that type of transaction many times, sometimes several times in one day.

But when a customer tries to use that ID as a way to intimidate little ole me into cashing his/her check even though he/she doesn’t have even 1 of the 2 forms ID we ask of every customer? OH NO, shorty don’t play like that.

I’ve worked this situation out with many a pleasant (albeit recently released from prison) customer, and was not about to take this “ish” from Mr. Leslie Bubble Butt** (he needs to have a demeaning nickname, obviously) and I swiftly pointed him in the direction of Silver Panther, to duke it out with him.

Shorty. Don’t. Play. Like. That.

Don’t mess with me, Leslie. Do make me smack you with my rings turned around.*

**Obvious fake name

*Violence isn’t the answer***

***Violence isn’t the answer except in cases of bad dessert sharing