The Long Bank

Banks. Damn them and their stupendous stranglehold on us all!

A tad dramatic perhaps but hot damn they are infuriating!!

So there I find myself, standing in a looong queue at lunchtime. My belly growling like a caged beast for food but no, I had the pleasure of being forced to sup at the fetid teat of my local bank.

It was a combination of circumstances. A repair that needed done to the house which had been left so long that the estimate for fixing it was growing arms like a demented octopus. I had had my chummy builder man out who had given an estimate. He obviously saw my face whiten slightly at the cost and leaned forward conspiratorially.

For cash I can take 200 aff it.

He gave me a knowing blokey look. I did my best to look manly and return said look however I suspected I looked like a stoned nodding dog.

Cool mate. I mumbled looking at the offending piece of roof and stroking my chin meditatively.

So there I was, in the queue at the bank because I needed the princely sum of 400 earthen pounds. The ATM outside was no use as the daily limit was 350.

Eventually, I step up to the counter. A bright eyed boy the size of my thumb breezily stated that he was sorry to have kept me waiting and enquired as to how he could help me.

I whacked my card on the counter and confidently boomed. 'Can I withdraw 400 pounds from my account please.'

Of course beamed the bank rat taking my card and swiping it through some antique plastic box.

Some moments passed as the computer attempted to process my request. The little chap looked up from his screen.

'Ah,' thought I? What the fuck squirrel face. I am on my lunch. Hurry this shit up.

Did you withdraw the maximum from the ATM? He enquired rather cheerfully.

I responded with a slightly annoyed 'No.'

Ah.

He then explained to me that I would have to withdraw the maximum from the ATM then come in and withdraw the extra.

We stared at each other. I raised an eyebrow slowly to its fearful maximum, fully intending to brute force him into submission. Nothing, he seemed immune.

Then we had a short and terse discussion on how silly that would be. The end result being that he said it was policy and that there was nothing he could do. In fact his hands were tied.

Having been in nonsensical situations with these kinds of people before I humphed loudly and trotted off outside.

There was a queue, it seems that in the sun the people of Glasgow like to queue in and around Bank's to fully enjoy the ambience of the good weather.

Eventually I got to the ATM, took my money and wen't back into the bank to queue once more.

Any thoughts of lunch had disappeared with the time it all took and my stomach struggled to escape the confines of my body and eat someone.

I reached the head of the queue and was called, this time by a different cashier. I handed over my card and explained that I would like to withdraw 50 pounds and had already maxed out the ATM.

She looked puzzled and in an ever so slightly perplexed tone said.

Oh goodness, there was no need for that. You could have just came in and taken it all out at once here?

I looked for the hidden cameras, obviously filming me for some kind of jape.

There were none.