They must see me coming a mile away. Probably have a network of tin-can-and-twine phones to inform each other of my progress as I tool along in T-Hoe. Nothing electronical that can be detected if I decide to investigate.
Not only did my bank cheat me out of $20 by a faulty ATM dispenser, and deny my appeal... but now my credit union has hopped on the Val Has Deep Pockets And Won't Even Miss It bandwagon.
Last week, I stopped by the credit union to take out cash that I'd spent on The Pony's fall tuition. I make an e-payment, then withdraw cash from his college fund to replace it in our checking account. The total withdrawal was $151.25. Yeah. I know. That's AMAZING for a semester of out-of-state tuition at the University of Oklahoma. The Pony has a really good scholarship.
Anyhoo... I had the same teller I usually get at the credit union. A young gal of around college age herself. She's quite congenial. Started typing on her computer before I even shoved the note card bearing The Pony's name and amount through the little scoop under the glass divider. I often declare that the denomination of the bills doesn't matter, since they're just going to be deposited at my bank within 10 minutes. On this day, I needed a $5 bill back, to include with another deposit.
"I'll need two fives. The other bills don't matter."
Young Gal turned back from her money drawer.
"Ha, ha! I hope I have the right amount! We'll find out."
Not something that would make me confident, but she's never messed up before. She counted out six 20s, two 10s, two 5s, and a 1.
"There you go." She slid them through the scoop, on top of the yellow withdrawal receipt that I'd signed.
I thanked her, folded the bills, and put them in my shirt pocket. No need to ask for an envelope for that amount. I didn't want to carry it, because there was an old man with a walking stick and a trash bag sitting on a bench outside. Better safe than sorry, though an attempt by him to rob me would have looked like two Galapagos tortoises chasing each other.
I headed for the bank. Stopped for gas. Made my deposits. Took out our weekly cash from that demon ATM at the bank. It was on the way back to Backroads, for my 44 oz Diet Coke, that I thought:
"Wait a minute! I didn't get my quarter! The credit union gal only gave me bills! Not the quarter!"
I looked down in my pocket. Nope. No quarter. Dang it! I wasn't going back to the credit union. Not for a quarter. I'm not THAT cheap! Not like my mom, who bought select-a-size paper towels, and tore them in half. Um. Wait. I buy select-a-size paper towels. And cut them in half with my kitchen shears to take down to my dark basement lair. But that's different! If I have a guest, I'll let them have a whole select-a-size! And so what if I also tear my Puffs With Lotion in half before blowing my nose? I blow my nose a lot! So I'm saving money on Puffs
Huh. That took a surprising turn. But, no. I did NOT go back for my quarter. Too bad if her drawer was 25 cents off. It's JUST a quarter. I don't want to be labeled as DIFFICULT. It's not like I'd draw magic marker eyebrows on Uncle Leo at the doctor's office.
Still. That 25 cents was not their money. It was MINE. Why should I be seen as petty for trying to recover it? Where do we draw the line? A dollar? Five dollars?
I don't know. But I didn't go back.
Probably would have cost more than a quarter on gas, plus your time is worth something even if you are retired.
ReplyDeleteI was once with my brother, the judge, checking out some items and he was short-changed a penny. As he discussed the transaction with the clerk, a lady behind him was getting antsy said, "Oh for heaven sake, it is only a penny, what difference does it make"?
My brother turned around and calmly and slowly (mostly to piss her off even more) said, "The difference is, it is MY penny!"
I snickered audibly! So did my brother. I believe I detected a "Harrumph!" from the lady.
I was about two miles away when the revelation hit me. T-Hoe gets 15 miles per gallon. I paid $2.64 a gallon for my gas (I thought that was LOW compared to my usual super unleaded price).
DeleteAccording to my calculations, it would have cost me 35 cents to go back for my quarter! So you are correct, even though I didn't do those calculations in my head at the time I remembered.
Your brother was also correct. Why should asking for his rightful penny be a cause for ridicule?
I'd go for the dollar. Had to do that once in Ireland. Had just gone to bank, had my rec't. The money is in different colors and I counted it out for them. Guess they got tired messing with a forceful American.
ReplyDeleteThe takeaway I get from your tale is that a bank in Ireland believed you over a dollar, and my bank of 30 years did NOT believe me when their ATM shorted me $20!
DeleteSWMBO once worked at a bank and one day they had an error like you mentioned. Everybody had to stay after closing for hours before they got it sorted out. Feel better now?
ReplyDeleteWell, it doesn't affect me personally, but I don't feel bad that they had to stay until they did their job correctly.
DeleteYou both got a little distracted by asking for the two fives, then she counted them out and you took the notes and left. by focussing on the fives you completely forgot the quarter, both of you.
ReplyDeleteThe difference being, it's her JOB to count out money, and it should be correct, whether I count it or not.
DeleteI should be able to stand there whistling Dixie, hopping on one foot, rubbing my head with one hand and my belly with the other, totally not paying attention, and still get the correct amount that I requested from my account.
True.
DeleteHey a quarter is a quarter.
ReplyDeleteIf I'd thought of it before I left the parking lot, I would have gone back.
Delete