The Reason We Invented ATMs

Funny story for the end of the day. Hooray!

On Tuesdays it is my responsibility to go to the bank and post office for work. It doesn’t take that long (Everything is about a block away), and isn’t very hard to do, but it lets you get out of the office for a while. Sometimes if people are sick or busy, I have to go to the bank and post office on their scheduled day. I don’t mind.

At the bank I always get the same teller. (Is that what they are called now? Customer Service Representatives maybe?) The only boy teller. For the past four months he has never really said anything to me. “Is that everything” or “hi”. It is better that way, get in, get out. That is my motto.

However, a couple of weeks ago (Shortly after I developed brown hair) the bank teller became my best friend. And would always finish what he was doing to help me…even if other tellers were open. And would talk my leg off the whole time! Usually about nothing, or quasi stupid things.

He told me about the paper cut on his finger, or about how he had slept in that morning, he gave me a detailed weather report one day, and made me time how long it took him to do my deposit the next time. The guy is okay, but always secretly wish that another teller will open up fast so I don’t have to talk to this guy now. Maybe we are friends; maybe I am one of the only regulars he has.

But yesterday, the conversation took a weird turn. After asking me when I was getting off work and telling me he walks past our office everyday (Thank goodness I don’t have windows in my personal office) He said, “When can I see you next?”

Oh my barf! What?!?

So I said, “Well, next Tuesday, when I come to the bank again.”

“Well what about Friday?”

I froze. Was the bank teller asking me out? Could he do that? Weird.

“Well, I, ah, uh….” I didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t you bring your deposit in on Fridays?”

“Oh! Sometimes I do come in on Fridays. We will have to see.”

And with that I bolted as fast, yet classy as I could. How embarrassing!