Had a senior moment today. Anne and I decided to walk over to Central Square to deposit some checks. I put them in my back pocket and off we went.
Arriving at the bank, I reached for the checks and they were gone. I frantically tapped my body as if I was on fire. No checks.
Decided to re-trace our footsteps back to the house. No checks.
Once home, I stripped down, shaking every item of clothing, as if my garments held some kind of secret chamber that the Anne Frank of checks could squeeze into. No checks.
Shit. Decided to call the bank.
For time-wasting shit you don't need. Press 1. You get the picture.
I just wanted the, For tools who lost a slip of paper with their Account Number on. Press 2. choice. No such luck.
Getting nowhere, we decided to go back to the bank. Only it was 15 minutes before closing time. So we drove. Found a space on the corner of Mass Ave and Inman by the Town Hall (the site of America's first gay wedding), and dashed to the bank.
Name on the list, I sat impatiently waiting to be called. All the time thinking someone was at that very second siphoning all of our money from our current account.
20 mins after closing time we eventually met with the bank guy, but first ...
At 1pm the Customer Service guy locked the doors to stop any more people entering the bank.
1.02pm. A guy tries to enter the bank, to find the doors locked. We have full sight of him. We are inside the bank, he is the other side of the glass doors in the building lobby.
He is so off his head.
This cat had opted for a denim jacket, but no shirt. He began to pound on the glass door, shouting I have money. He proceeded to remove pieces of paper from his pockets and shove them through the crack in the door. Then he started to strip. Interspersed with stripping, he would do a strange sign of the cross/sign language thing with his hands. More clothes removal, and more items from his pockets are being flung at the glass door.
The bank guy is freaking out, and his colleagues are asking "Why the fuck aren't the Police here yet?". Crazy guy finally walks off, leaving his debris in the lobby, and in true 70s movie style, the cops arrive 2 minutes later.
Oh, and I got a parking ticket because the whole bank thing took longer than 30 minutes. I'll have to write a check ... if my bank will let me.