Yesterday morning after work I decided to head to the bank and grab some American cash for our Flea Market trip to Mexico, which is only days away. I had been humming and hawing for the last couple of weeks keeping a watchful eye on the Canadian dollar, hoping it would take a sharp jump upwards one day. Yesterday I realized that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, so I made my way to the bank next door to cash in before the buck dropped any further.
While I was at the counter waiting for the cashier to retrieve my money from the back, a man pulled up to the cashier next to me. She was a very pleasant young lady and right off the bat said good morning to the man and asked how his morning was going. “Terrible” the barked out in a gruff voice. I rolled my eyes and said to myself, “uh oh, here we go.” Then the lady asked, “what’s wrong?” “Nothing” came the mans reply. That was it. The one word answer guy. He’s above ground and he’s got money in the bank. He’s already better off than half the people on the planet!
Now I’m thinking to myself, “please, don’t ask this guy any more questions.”
The teller must have felt a little uneasy with “Mr. Personality” because she stopped talking and got right down to business. Nobody was happier about that than me. This guy was sucking whatever positive vibes there were right out of the air. Boy, I wonder who the lucky lady is that got to say “I do” to this happy fellow. She’s probably wishing she had of said “I don’t!”
The bank didn’t have the denominations of currency I was looking for, so the lady asked me to come back the next day and she would have what I needed then. That sounded good. Standing beside “Mr. Happy,” I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I felt like turning to the guy and wishing him a great day, but I bit my tongue and moved on.
I hope he doesn’t decide to do a return trip this morning. I don’t need American money that much.