This way my dirty hair can stay dirty with a quick spritz and poof, my feet need some flip-flops, and then my outfit of shabby not-so-chic will be complete. Who cares if I am seen at the drive-up camera looking like a bag lady's bag lady? This is a great way to air out the scar, too. If I go into the bank, I need to gauze up my face, and right now it's airing out, so I have to use the drive-up.
There are four drive-through bays at this branch, and all four have green "open" signs showing. A truck is in the first bay, so I pull into the second bay. I assume the bank clerk is serving the truck dude, so I sit and wait my turn. And wait. And wait. And waaaaaaaaaaaaaaait.
After five full minutes of waiting, the teller still has not resurfaced. By now a third car has arrived, pulling into the bay on the other side of me. We all continue to wait some more.
Ten minutes after I arrive, the teller pops her head into the window across the parking lot. She goes first to the truck. I hear the driver responding to her garbled electronic voice, "Yes, then the white car, then the SUV."
The bank teller has been away from her post for so long that she doesn't even know in which order we have arrived. I don't know what she has been doing for ten-plus minutes, but I certainly hope her intestines feel better now.
Seventeen minutes after I arrive at the bank, I am finally getting some service. I can't exactly go in and complain (poorly dressed), nor can I get the counter tellers to cash the check as I've already put it into the tube and sent it to window teller in the bottom floor of the building.
By the time I get my money, the sun has hidden behind clouds, and I cannot even stop to take autumn pictures as the dim light of overcast gray blots out the colorful foliage. It is still warm, and I could wait for clouds to pass and sun to shine again, but I've done enough waiting already today.
