I work at a bar, right? Over the past two months I’ve been collecting my tips and putting them in…an unknown location in my room. After lying awake at 4, waiting for sleep, I switched on the light and counted it up.
After 63 days of employment, I’d earned X amount.
X!!!! Dope as hell, right?
So, the next day I decided to turn all that real green (insert weed joke here) into digital dollars. I went to my local credit union and approached the til’—about ten minutes before closing time.
Before I go on, know that I fully understand the implications of this. I’ve felt the pain of almost closing up shop at the bar and having 11 incredibly drunk, incredibly obnoxious D-bags walk through the front door.
Knowing this, I approached the til, said “I’m gonna make your day,” to the cute clerk…
And put a 15-pound ziplock bag full of loose change on the counter.
Standing there, my giant bag of loot on the table, it became obvious I wasn’t an impressive sight.
“I’m really sorry about this, but I wanna deposit all of this change and cash please,” I said, like some asshole.
She was really friendly about it, counting up the bills with a machine while also computerizing (should be a word if it’s not).
“What about the coins?” I asked.
“I’ll meet you at the counter nearest the wall.”
She handed me a few short, colourful pieces of paper and gave me a tutorial in how to roll coins. And my involuntary 20 minutes as a humble serf began.
HEAR ME OUT
I gave up in about ten minutes. I’d had a reasonably stressful day with typical work and life complications, so I was tired and cranky. Wanting to be done with this sh1t, I asked a nearby clerk to help me.
“Hi, um, I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir?”
I gestured toward the mess of coins and paper in front of me.
“I don’t feel like doing this, I understand it’s the policy, so I’ll just take my coins and go.”
She smiled, “Give me a quick moment and I’ll deposit the coins you have rolled.”
“Alright,” I responded, and stood there patiently for five minutes. I got bored and ended up rolling the rest of my coins.
LIKE SUM’ BITCH
No joke, the moment I twisted the last roll of coins shut, the clerk returned.
And I apologized profusely for arriving to a bank at closing time and expecting a clerk to count my money.
All I want to know is: Should I have apologized for performing 20 minutes of free labour?
For an institution I pay to service me…in a financial kinda way?
You decide. Ol’ buddy, Ol’ pal. 🙂
Am I a total dick? Too Canadian for my own good?
Or was I done wrong?
(Insert witty and equally thought-provoking sign-off here)