Stupidity, the Bank and Tap Dancing

Periodically, I engage in a song & dance routine. I get out my black, patent leather shoes, pink bow tie and glittery cane. I’ve performed this little tap number at four branches of a local bank in order to obtain necessary paperwork for a loan.

My husband occasionally buys and sells real estate. Hence, the need for loans. To borrow money from a lender, we must prove that we don’t really need the money.

My energetic little jig is usually followed by polite, staccato applause from my small, subdued audience; afterward, I am handed the requested piece of paper to show the lender. I typically begin my journey to the exit, but rarely make it out the double glass doors. Along the way, I notice that the paper, which summarizes the balance of my accounts, provides no evidence whatsoever that it originated from a bank. I could have typed it up myself.

“Where the hell does it say which freaking bank this is from?” is what I’d love to shout (years of maintaining an angelic demeanor for the sake of the kids has taken its toll on me). Instead I say,

“Would you kindly open a drawer and locate the super impressive, official-looking stamp that says ‘Los Pueblos Bank’ and illuminate this little sheet?”

So begins a mad dash from drawer to drawer by the employee in search of the elusive stamp. This occurs each and every time and can last anywhere from four to twelve minutes, depending on the I.Q. of the person assisting me. (That was mean. I’m sorry. I.Q. has no bearing whatsoever on stupidity. Highly educated people can be impossibly stupid).

Yesterday, Husband and I entered the branch closest to our home to add his name to an account that I have with my mother. Doesn’t that sound delightfully simple? Nancy assisted us. We obtained proper signatures and left to get my mother’s signature. We did so. Husband returned the signature card to the bank (I didn’t have my tap shoes on me). It was his turn to secure the little piece of paper.

Here’s what happened:

When Husband entered the bank, Nancy was nowhere to be found. He overheard some one say, “She’s in the lunch room, doing her nails.” Husband was advised that no other person, out of the 15 employees present, could add the signature and print out the paper he required. He asked to see the manager.

Unbeknown to Husband, the manager had declared Tuesdays to be “Don’t-help-customers-no-matter-what-day.”

When he asked how long Nancy would be, Manager replied, “Ten minutes.”

Husband said, “No problem. I’ll wait. I really need to deliver this paperwork to the lender today.” Husband showed Manager a sample copy of what he needed.

Manager carefully scrutinized it, then announced, “That’s a cute little paper, but you’re not getting anything today. It’s going to take at least twenty-four hours to update the account.”

Husband, realizing them’s fightin’ words, said, “Are you sure? I’ve done this before and it’s instant.”

She restated, “It can’t be done.”

Husband left. He filled up the gas tank, stopped to get coffee, then drove five miles to the next branch of the same bank. This time he met a very smart teller who printed what he needed in less than ten seconds. Unfortunately, it took another four minutes to find the infamous official bank stamp.

Why? Why must we jump through hoops and perform astonishing feats of ability in order to survive an encounter with stupidity? Well, first of all, so I can run this blog. Secondly, to sharpen our minds. Those who can think and do, can always beat ten men who can’t and don’t (to paraphrase George Bernard Shaw). Don’t you feel a sense of accomplishment when you’ve resolved a problem or completed a task, no matter how large or small? Stupers (short for abysmally stupid persons) don’t know what that satisfaction feels like. And never will.

Choose to think.


7 Responses to “Stupidity, the Bank and Tap Dancing”

  1. Mad Woman says:

    Banks tick me off. I avoid them at all costs. But that might have more to do with my lack of cash than the people in the building.

  2. Paul Wynn says:

    Nice a douche bag manager.. What happen to professionalism? Why scrutinize his document which was legit? Hubby is a standup guy .. kudos to him

  3. jingle says:

    independent thinker is rare,
    but you are one of them,
    smart people can survive dumb bosses,
    it is always good to have FUN at work…

  4. Jenny says:

    That selfsame thing happened to me once. Then they proceeded to put my loan funds into the account of another person with a name a lot like mine.

    I found out about it when large checks began bouncing.

    True story.

  5. jingle says:

    9, a magical number
    to enter…

    just stop by saying hello,

    wishing you a sweet evening.
    it is pouring outside my door…

  6. omawarisan says:

    I have to respect your husbands strategy of leaving and stopping for coffee and gas. It is easier to reengage stupidity after taking a moment to recover.

  7. Ferd says:

    Exactly! The satisfaction of solving a problem or completing a task! Weird to think that the vast population of stupers will never experience that.

    You are so funny, and sharply accurate. We do have to do a song and dance to get things done in a world of stupers, don’t we?

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