Service with a smile...

So I walked into my local branch of First Second State Federal Credit Union this morning intent on depositing three checks into my checking account. I would like to point out that in my over-ten-years of banking with FSSCU, the fine tellers there have always handled similar requests with a style, grace, aplomb, speed, and efficiency I have come to rely on. In fact, I was especially relying on this efficiency as I had about 10 minutes to get to work to be on time for a meeting I had. Fortunately for me, no one was in line and so--with one person on duty at the counter--I stepped up to the sign that kindly directed me to wait for the next available teller.

The teller on duty slowly looked at me, smiled, looked to the side, looked at the ceiling, looked behind her, looked at me again and asked me if she could help. I walked up, handed her the three checks I hoped to deposit and asked her if I could please deposit them in my checking account. She looked at me, looked at the checks, flipped the checks over, looked at them, looked behind her, up at the ceiling, back at me, off to the side and said, "Do you know your account number?" Slightly confused that she wasn't looking at me or at her computer, I gave her my account number. She looked back at me and said, "What?  What was that?" Checking the large circular mirror in the corner to make sure I hadn't suddenly turned into a gorilla or something equally mystifying, I dutifully repeated the number again.

The teller punched in my account number, flipped the stack of checks over and looked at them for a bit, flipped them over again and looked at them for a bit, repeated this process three or four times, and then repeated this process again for each of the checks in the pile. I'm not sure if she was looking for signs of counterfeiting, her daily horoscope, the secret of life, or the cure for cancer, but eventually she decided they were just checks, and began to key in the digits. After she finished, she asked me to verify that everything was correct on the display in front of me, which I confirmed verbally. She began staring at me. After about thirty uncomfortable seconds, she asked me, "Is that all?"

"Uhhhh...." I replied. "Uh. Yeah, I think so... So those went into my checking account, right? We're good, right?"

She looked away from me over her shoulder at nothing in particular (I know it was nothing because by this time, I had scanned every inch of the bank to see where the armed-robbers-that-certainly-must-have-taken-her-hostage-and-were-even-now-plotting-our-violent-deaths were, but--fortunately--could see no one else) and slowly replied, "Yeah."

I was really late for the meeting.

It's a boy!

Orem, UT, Oct 18 (AP)- In a stunning victory over average-sized people everyhere, a giant baby was born to "Texas" Glen Wagley this afternoon at St. Mungo's Hospital for Giant Babies in Orem, Utah. Early reports indicate that mother and son are doing fine, with the baby weighing in at a hefty 9 pounds, 480 ounces. Additional, unconfirmed reports allege that the baby will be named, "Eldon Sleestak Wagley."

Glen Wagley, alternately known by his friends as "Tex Mex," "6XL," "Sir Eats a Lot," and "Tons of Fun" stated happily, "This ties the four happiest days of my life--the day I was married, the two days my two other children were born, and the day I downed a family-sized, cake-filled, bacon-wrapped McHeartAttack in under 10 minutes, while simultaneously washing it down with a two-liter of Pepsi. I got me a t-shirt for that last one."

A doctor on the scene who refused to be identified asserted, "Even though Mr. Wagley is not extremely tall, it is clear from our genetic testing that he carries the gigantism gene responsible for the baby's size."



(Above: Time to feed the giant baby. Below: Giant baby rests with mother.)

Sean Heaton, longtime friend of Glen Wagley, remarked, "I offer my congratulations to Glen and Tara. The birth of this baby is cause for great celebration. No longer will the skinny and fast dominate us big people. Anything that makes you 'smaller'--so-to-speak--will go out of vogue. Jogging will be seen as stupid and foolish, diet and exercise for the gullible. Worker health programs will go unfunded. The much-heralded birth of this baby signals a tipping-point in the scales of the universe. Literally."

Mother and baby are expected to return home later this week, after which time the baby will begin his career as a defensive lineman for the Dallas Cowboys.

A Spiritual Thought

I hope my dear readers will allow me a moment to be serious. I don't know who the original author of this is, but it really inspired me, so I pass it on for your benefit...

It's All Academic...

ORLANDO, FL, Jun 22 (AP)- On a long-awaited day of academic achievement, heaton.blogspot.com creator and former CEO, W. Brook Heaton, was awarded his Doctorate in Information Systems from St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. Stated Heaton, "Oh yeah... I received loads of beatings during my academic tenure there." When asked more specifically about his degree and what it means, Heaton remarked, "By receiving this degree--and the title of 'Doctor' that goes with it--I join the ranks of such greats as Dr. Leonard H. McCoy and professional wrestler Dr. Death Steve Williams. This is an historic moment."

On hearing of his brother's accomplishment, Sean Heaton, current CEO of heaton.blogspot.com noted, "Although I offer my congratulations to my predecessor here, I hope that this will not overshadow my own academic achievements. What most people don't realize is how easy it is to get a masters degree or doctorate. If you stop to consider the bigger picture, 100% of my siblings have a master's degrees or better. Two have Ph.D.'s. When you look at the facts, my lack of any sort of college degree is much harder to achieve, statistically speaking. How many of my siblings can honestly say they had a semester in college with a 0.67 GPA? How many have been on academic probation or academic suspension? We need to focus on what matters."

When W. R. Heaton was asked to comment on the obvious tension between his sons, he replied, "Look... I have a Ph.D. Three out of four of my children have advanced degrees and are productive members of society. If I were a baseball player, I'd have to take a lot of steroids to hit .750 and I'd get millions of dollars in return. Instead, all of you vultures in the press focus on the negative. I am confident that history's judgement will be on my side. On the advice of counsel, I have no further comment."

More on this news item as it develops...

"Two pantloads of awesome and a fifth of crazy..."

So, it being the end of the month, it was time for my Jeep's 3000 mile service, as well as its annual emissions, safety, dry rot, and hernia inspection. I took it to Bobby Business's Hair Care, Auto, and Tire Centre, which is a local automotive concern specializing in dry rot repair. Bobby's is famous amongst my circle of friends for once having wrecked Texas Glen's vehicle during routine automotive service that I assume--although I am not a certified mechanic--must have gone horribly awry.

At any rate, as I was sitting there enjoying my second hour of waiting, the door to the room I was in opened. I stirred myself from my I-got-up-early-to-bring-this-in-but-now-I've-been-waiting-a-long-time stupor and looked over, desperately hoping it was the service advisor. The first thing I saw surprised me. It was a tiny, fluffy white dog. Attached to the dog by a pink leash--and being pulled along behind it--was a late-40s-to-early-50ish, white-haired, short older woman. She totally reminded me of Delores Umbridge... Not physically, mind you, but her attitude was a perfect match.

So Delores gets to her chair and immediately asks the service advisor who followed her in to get her a Diet Coke. He pauses for just a split-second with a look of mild surprise on his face, but to his credit (he's a pretty nice guy, really) goes to get her one. After he hands her the can and walks off, she mutters, "I wonder what time it is." I check and tell her the time. She responds by muttering to herself in her Delores-Umbridge sing-song voice, "I'm getting a GREAT jump on today!"

Now the dealership has a computer with an sign sitting next to it that advertises, "Find your Car's True Trade-In Value!" She notices it and then the following exchange occurs.

Delores: (Mutters to self.) "They never told me my car's trade-in value." (Louder.) "They never told me my car's trade-in value." (Louder.) "They never told me my car's trade-in value." (Loud enough to be heard by the staff employees sitting across the room.) "Hey! They never told me my car's trade-in value!"

Cheerful Girl Behind Counter: (Smiling.) "Oh? Well, you are welcome to use this computer to go online and check that."

Delores: (Eyes the keyboard suspiciously.) "Are there buttons? Would I have to push buttons? Because I don't know how to do that."

CGBC: "Uhh... Oh! Well, I'd be happy to help you!"

CGBC then comes around the counter and tries to get the computer to work. The Internet connection is down. She tells Delores that the computer doesn't work and Delores sits down.

Five minutes pass...

Delores: (Mutters to self.) How long can it take to have a key made? I've been here for over an hour!

While I am internally cackling with glee about how Delores made a big deal about finding her car's trade-in value when she is really there to get a key, she starts talking to me. Apparently, she is having a key made because she lost her purse in a store. She found her purse at home, but by that time, all of her credit cards had been cancelled. It is really inconvenient for her because she has to pay by check until she gets new cards and no one takes checks anymore. She's not even sure the dealership will take them.

After she gets done talking to me, she starts to say under her voice, just loud enough for CGBC to hear her, "My goodness! How long can it take to have a key made? I just can't believe this! And they never even told me my car's trade-in value! Oh well, I guess it is the trials in life that make you stronger! And they're not even paying attention to me! No one listens anymore!"

At this point, I am tired of hearing Delores passive-agressively complain about her car's trade-in value, so I walk over to the computer, full nerd swagger. I check some stuff and realize that the person that used it last tried to connect to someone else's wireless access point and it had no signal. I connect it to Bobby Business's WAP, tell CGBC that if she just types in the WAP password, they'll be back in business. I am hopeful because CGBC appears to be around 25, so I figure she will have some knowledge of computers and won't be afraid of buttons. She looks at me with a smile and a blank stare. I repeat what happened and she says, "Oh great! Thanks!" with the same vacant look in her eyes. Meanwhile, Delores has come up behind me to find out her car's true trade-in value, which apparently is a critical piece of information to have if you're getting a key made for it.

I am just lamenting the fact that I willingly waded into the middle of this, when the service advisor walks in, says I'm good-to-go but I really should have my U-joint replaced at some point so I don't die in a horrible accident (apparently, it has totally been corroded by dry rot), and hands me my keys. Without even asking for any further detail, I hand over my credit card, sign the receipt "S" and half of an "H" for speed and walk out of there as fast as I can, but not before Delores's dog knocks over some other chick's 32-ouncer for the win.

Oh well, at least it looks like I am getting a GREAT jump on today.

My Christmas Wish...

The following is from an email I sent to a coworker earlier today.

-----Original Message-----
From: Sean [Redacted]
Sent: Tuesday, May 10, 2011 4:35 PM
To: Ron [Redacted]
Subject: Ice cream.

I hope that every bite of that delicious-looking, strawberry-syrup-covered ice cream tasted like frozen hate.

That is all...

Sean

Nightmares and Dreamscapes...

Sometimes late at night... When the demons come out... I see myself... And I am Texas Glen... And I hear screaming.

And I wake up...

And the screaming is me.