The Deposit

One of my goals was to run an innocuous errand to the bank today.  I didn’t even have to get out of the car.  Simply feed a check into The Machine for my husband’s business account, collect a receipt, and drive on my merry way.

I usually don’t chose to do business with The Machine.  Because A) I fear it, B) I’m fairly sure it’s smarter than I am, and C) It hates me.

But I was forced to use it because I didn’t have any preprinted deposit slips.  I pulled up to The Machine and carefully fed the lone check into the slot, making certain that there were no bent corners. While I spoke nicely to The Machine, making polite small talk.

The Machine spit the check back out at me with disgust.  ERROR ERROR!  Wrong ink on the check.  The ink must be either dark blue or black.  And with that, the window went blank.  Like TALK TO THE HAND.  But there was no hand.

WHO WRITES A CHECK WITH TURQUOISE COLORED INK?  BARBIE?

I make a mental note to tell Fiddledaddy to ask his clients to use a REAL pen.

Thusly I was forced to drive all the way around the bank and get into the drive-thru line.  And yes, I could have actually unloaded all 3 children and gone INTO the bank.  But I can proudly tell you that I haven’t stepped foot inside the bank since Emme was born.

Can you imagine Jensen inside a bank?  He would likely render the security guard weapon free and clear out the tellers of all their lolly pop stash.

No thank you.

Where was I?

So, I drove around the bank and got into the drive-thru line.  When I reached the nifty machine that sucks stuff up into the ceiling, I realized that it was fresh out of deposit slips.

Disgusted, I drove around the bank again, and got into another line.  This is when All The Questions began.  “Mommy, I’m getting dizzy, why are we driving around in circles.”  “Mommy, why do we have to go to the bank?”  “Mommy, can’t you drop me off at the house?”  “Mommy, when are we going to be done?”  “Mommy, did you bring snacks?”  “Mommy, SHE STUCK HER TONGUE OUT AT ME!”  Pfffffffttttt!  (Sound of my head caving in.)

So.  I pulled up and what luck, deposit slips!  However, I was unable to open my window, as a swarm of wasps had ascended the machine that sucks.  And by swarm, I mean one big nasty mean looking wasp.  But they seldom travel alone.  I waited for a couple of minutes, hoping the wasp would give up and leave.  Nothing doing.  He was looking for a spot to nest and breed.  And I just knew that if I were to open my van window, there would be a suction action of my own. The heated air would be forced in through my driver’s window, bringing the giant wasp in with it.

And I did consider it for just a moment. As that transaction would give the children something fresh and new to complain about.

A line was forming behind me.  Therefore, I circled the bank yet again, and went to the commercial window.  Daring the teller to shoo me away as I wasn’t a commercial account holder.  But she was very sweet and apologetic of the wasp infestation, and gladly handed me a deposit slip.  After the transaction was blissfully over, she asked me if I wanted lolly pops for the children.  I thanked her and DECLINED.

Crazy maniacs in the back of the van.  Working my very last nerve.  If anyone deserved a treat, it would be ME, and it should be some sort of chocolate.  Or cocktail.

As I drove away to my next adventure, I wondered if anyone were to review the bank security footage from today, if the sight of a crazed housewife circling the bank ad  nauseum, in a van while swatting aimlessly at children in the back seat, would arouse any sort of suspicion?

DeeDeeSig

September 29, 2009

11 Responses to The Deposit

  • Thank you for making my day with a blog about depositing a check, of all things.

  • Thanks for the morning laugh…I so needed it.

  • Ha.Apparently we are living parallel lives and the banking industry has it in for us. http://antiquemommy.com/2009/08/12/the-bank/

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    A.M.,
    I’ve been saying this for years. 🙂

    D2
    (Your younger sister)

  • I hate going to the bank with kids in car, I assume that they can hear everything from their little intercom thingy, and it ain’t pretty in the van sometimes!

    Especially if we have the dog in the car, too.

  • This is really funny. I’m fascinated by your description of the drive through though. Ours doesn’t deign to look at the cheques – you type in the number, stuff in the envelope and then hope that the people who open them later do their jobs correctly. And there is no possibility of a live person unless you park, get out of the car and stand in line for at least 15 minutes!

  • I needed quarters for the laundromat (ugh!) and went through the bank drive thru. I didn’t realize that they didn’t sent rolls of coins through the sucky thing. Thankfully, the teller took pity on me and brought them out to our minivan (and my 4 kids)! 🙂

  • Thanks for the laugh today!! I very rarely go inside the bank anymore either, it’s just too much work!

  • You always make me laugh. I lost you to a virus! Then found you again somewhere?!
    All I know is my computer hates me. And I live with it! Arghhh!

  • Dang, AM got here before me! I was going to tell you that you should read her post about the bank – because you guys should really write a book together about the whole bank experience. You could sell it with a box of depends, a lollypop and a pair of black yoga pants…

  • What is fun is to watch Mary Poppins and then go to the bank. My daughter had hysterics because she was positive that it would end up like the Mary Poppins trip to the bank. Never mind that we were only doing the drive through. Never mind that we had gone numerous times before.

    In her defense, I think she was 3 or 4 but still . . . .

  • I don’t feel so bad. About a month ago I went to city hall to pay our personal property taxes, when the nice lady behind the counter whispered to me. “Honey, your shirt is on inside out.” I looked and yeap it was! I laughed and said, “I’m just trying out this new fashion thing I saw in 17 magazine. Do you think it’s too much?”