Story of a misspent youth.

Employees at my bank seem relaxed. If it’s a deposit I’m paying in, they smile and nod, if it’s a loan application, they smile, nod and ask how my week was, and if it’s me crying, begging them not to charge me £30.00 for being a penny overdrawn, then they’ll smile, nod, and refuse my request. Then they won’t ask how my week’s been- they know I’d come out with some sarcastic remark, starting with “license to steal money”, some mention of “banks” in the middle, and concluded with “toss-pots”. But they’re relaxed. I think I know why. My bank has a curious thing that they call Bank Holiday Friday. After twelve, all the bankers (the b is silent and the w invisible) leave work and they reappear on Monday looking calm with bulbous veins. I suspect they spend their nice long weekend shooting up with my overdraft fee.


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