suspicions
i am starting to think that the folks at the bank think i am up to something. for the last couple of weeks i’ve been hauling in boxes of change, amounting to about $500 worth of coins that were under my bed or in cabinets, just sitting there doing nothing, relaxing, not working. some of these masses of coins have been sitting in place since 2002. i just figured enough was enough, and that laziness was not acceptable any more. it’s tedious business taking these things over to the bank.
anyway, i remembered a story about someone who raised the suspicions of a bank when he started bringing in masses of change every single day. the bank alerted authorites who found that the person was stealing from all types of coin-fed street furniture: parking meters, payphones, vending machines and those mechanical horses that little kids ride.
it just puzzled and annoyed me that the bank was suspicious of the guy on account of his change-hording, though it sounds like he exhibited other suspicious behaviours, and he was bringing in a whole lot more of the coins than i.
still, it cuts to the point of what the banks think of small change. how much of it do they even want? i remember a guy who had thousands of dollars worth of pennies, and he was dismayed to find that no bank would take them. i dont think i’ve reached that level of imposing myself on the bank with my coin deposits, but when i made a deposit yesterday ($83 in nickels and dimes) i felt something was different about the transaction. it took way longer than usual, and for some reason the first clerk who started the transaction stopped and told me to go 2 windows down and use a different clerk. that clerk asked me repeatedly if i was depositing these coins, and she made an exceedingly meticulous counting of the coins. she seemed perfectly amiable and all, but something about the deposit was strange…
i am almost certainly just paranoid, but the deliberateness of hauling these coins and the conspicuity of dropping the rolls one by one under the window makes me more self-conscious than i might otherwise be.
…..
that was… a meticulous accounting of a mild deposit of paranoia.
i’ve been ruminating on meticulosity, as part of the School of the Decision Making Process. i find that eventually, with me, if i analyze down to the sawdust of a decision making process, i almost always find sadness at the core of who i am. i guess that’s better than finding scum and villainy in those hoary holes of my inferior earthly vessel.
…..
