What the Puck Does This Have to do With a MEDALLION?

When we last convened, Hick and Val were on a quest to redeem the 169 savings bonds that Val had inherited from her mom. A quest that necessitated finding a MEDALLION-master to certify a required processing form.

After our separate efforts to find a method for turning my pieces of paper into SPENDABLE pieces of paper, Hick mentioned that the Treasury dude he talked to by phone had mentioned that we should take those bonds to our MAIN bank office. Well. That was not a problem, it's just a hop, skip, and a jump down the highway, over in Bill-Paying Town. We headed over there bright and early, leaving home at 9:30, with an ETA of 10:00 after a stop by the post office.

The main bank office is on the square. Just across from the courthouse. There were only two cars in the parking lot, so I figured we shouldn't have to wait. When we entered the lobby, there were NO other customers in sight. Five tellers stood ready behind the counter. They were interchangeable. Early 20s. Slightly poofy hair. Smiley. Giggly, in fact. On the edge of hysteria.

We were greeted right away by the teller closest to us.

"We need to cash in some bonds," said Hick.

"One hundred and sixty-nine bonds," said I.

"We need to see someone with a MEDALLION," added Hick.

Ooh! Their eyes grew round. Again, with this mysterious MEDALLION. They looked down the counter at each other. Like the Bradys and Alice in the opening credits of The Brady Bunch.

"I'll find someone for you. You can have a seat." Teller 1 waved her arm grandiosely at a square grouping of 8 chairs around a low, glass-topped table. Like Carol Merrill gesturing towards a showcase on Let's Make a Deal.

We sat. Another 20-something girl appeared out of nowhere. She obviously didn't fit the Teller Mold, with her cropped, straight, platinum hair. At first she said, "Would you like some Fritos?" But I'm not sure if she was offering them to us, even though she was right in front of us. So I didn't answer, and she quickly asked, "Can I help you?"

"We need to see someone with a MEDALLION," said Hick.

"OH! I can't help you with THAT! Sorry!" Platinum hoofed it over to Teller Row. I could hear them murmuring things like, I KNOW, and WHOOPS! and CAN'T DO THAT.

Teller 1 came back and told us it would be just a moment, but someone would be out to talk to us. Within a minute, the MEDALLION MASTER appeared out of a glass cubicle. I shall call her MM to save the skin on my precious typing fingers. She invited us into her office, where she took our information and entered some data into her computer. She asked if we had any forms.

"Oh. I have this one that I printed off the internet."

MM looked over the four-page form and started filling it out. She didn't have to do EVERY section. I had to show my driver's license for ID, and a check so she could get our account number, and a death certificate for Mom, and a list of the savings bonds. Some Series E, but mostly Series EE. It was the list I had compiled by entering each serial number and date into an online calculating tool that my sister the ex-mayor's wife had hooked me up with. It was four pages long. MM wrote SEE ATTACHED LIST on the section that gave six lines for listing the savings bonds.

While MM was filling out this very important form, Hick was jawing at her. He must be the center of attention. Just making small talk about a St. Louis Blues cup sitting on her file cabinet.

"Oh, do you like hockey? I see your Blues cup."

"Yes! I LOVE hockey! I used to have season tickets, but then I got married and had a kid, and we only went to a couple of games. But we go to several a year now."

Hick pulled out his phone to show MM a picture of the boys' bathroom, where he and Genius had created a hockey floor. Like that needed to be done while I was waiting for my bonds to be MEDALLIONized correctly.

Plus, Hick took the picture way back in 2013, the winter before Genius graduated from high school. It was a project they did together. You'd think Hick could have at least taken down the towel faded from Genius's face medicine before snapping that picture he SO loves to share all willy-nilly with bank executives. Also, he didn't get the hockey stick towel rack in the picture.

Anyhoo...after that one-sided admiration society adjourned, MM asked if we were going to the parade. It was homecoming for the high school in Bill-Paying Town. School was letting out early, and a parade would wind through town. THAT'S why those tellers were all hyped up!

"I'm really glad you two came in early. Because only two of us here can use the MEDALLION, and we're both leaving soon for the parade. So in the future, it might be best if you call first. I'd hate it if you came all the way over here, and nobody could help you."

So...apparently time was of the essence! A parade was going down, and the MEDALLION MASTER was going to leave work for it. Hick really needed to zip his lip! But here he was, talking about the parade he went to with HOS's son last week, and the one that my old high school had when we lived in my $17,000 house in town.

And here's the snippet I gave you yesterday...

The bank lady excused herself from her glass cubicle office, saying she was just going to get the MEDALLION. Finally! The big secret was about to be revealed. I was fully expecting her to strut back in with a giant medal around her neck, bouncing off her boobage with each step, flaunting that MEDALLION for all it was worth, like an Olympic gold medal. Perhaps she'd even have an armed security guard accompanying her. After all, it was a rare MEDALLION!

I leaned back to see around Hick's shoulders, watching the bank lobby for that lady's return. Here she came! But there was nothing around her neck! What in the Not-Heaven? She sat down behind her computer and placed a box on the glass-topped desk. It was a rather worn box. Cardboard. Black. With white printing too small to read. About the size a 1970 Lady Norelco shaver might come in. The corners were skinned up a bit. Then she opened up the box and took out the MEDALLION!

It looked like a plastic name stamp that you can order from those inserts in the newspaper.

Yeah. MEDALLION my butt! It was a stamp that she pressed down on the paper. It left a day-glow green rectangle of printing, with some numbers, and a line for MEDALLION MASTER's signature. She signed. Glanced at us. And put that MEDALLION back in its worn box and stashed it in her desk drawer. Because obviously, Hick and I looked like the sort to steal a MEDALLION.

MM excused herself to make copies. She came back and slid my ID and checks back to me across the desk. Then she separated the papers and gave us a set. I put them back in my folder. She put the two stacks of savings bonds back in their big brown envelope and slid them over. Hick snatched them right up.

"Those are much more organized than what most people bring in here. We usually have to shuffle through and sort them out."

"Yes, I put them in order as I was typing them in the list. Actually, my mom had pretty much left them in order when I got them."

We stood to leave. The air was redolent with the aroma of Fritos. I heard the tellers talking about brownies. I'm sure Hick wanted to stay and chat longer about many unrelated subjects, but I pulled him out the door.

OOPS! Too lengthy again. I'll have to save the bondage faux pas until tomorrow. You'll come back, won't you?