Ok. So, about a week ago I was waiting at Bank of America. I was there to close out an account and transfer into a new one. I waited and waited, as the bankers meandered back to their desks from lunch and fed their digimons or whatever the fuck they were dicking around with at their desks.
Finally, this big-assed but kind-of-hot Latina banker (the one I wanted) helps the old guy ahead of me. Meanwhile, a hot chick who entered like 10 minutes after me was sitting in the waiting area now too (I’m going to assume, for the sake of this story, that she was moist for me [.6% chance of that being the case]. So, finally this little hot-shot banker with a thick Spanish accent walks right up to her and is like “I kin hilp you now.” WTF? I was there way before her!! So, now I’m pissed and I pretty much tell this other “floater” dude there (who was kind of nice) what happened. Long story short, floater dude (Brian), talks to shitty, tiny little skeevy banker as the girl walks away to use the phone, and he stares me down, and waves me over.
FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUU- I don’t want this guy handling my accounts now that he hates me. We do our business in a civil fashion, but as I request new checks for the new account, he grins as he types with his stubby little fingers.
Today, I receive these Anne Geddes creepy baby checks in a purple creepy baby checkbook. WELL FUCK YOU, GUY. I FUCKING LIKE THEM.