The Bank Of Fucking Scotland.

I’m just back from the bank.

If it was up to me,
I’d keep all my cash in a shoebox under the bed.

I went there to pay 20 bucks into my account.

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I got hit with a teller who looked to be about 14 Years old.

Him: How are you?

Me: Peachy!

Him: That’s 20 pounds.

Me: Yes, I know.

Him: Ever thought about a credit card?

Me: Right now, I’m thinking: Put my 20 fazooms into my account so I can get outta here.

Him: So what are you up to today?

Me: What? Why? I know you get told to ask that but can you just gimmie my form, I’ll sign it, Then we’ll say goodbye?

Him: I’m sorry to keep you.

Me: It’s cool, don’t worry about it.

Him: What do you do for a living?

Me: Look! Can we can this small talk? Can we? You talk more than a barber.
It’s not like you’re actually interested is it!

Him: Okay….There we are Sir. That’s 20 pounds.

Me: I know.

I’m a cheeky bugger but,
I fucking hate The Bank Of Scotland.

* Update:
Today I went back to the bank and apologised to that feller.
As I was about to leave,
He said: So, what are your plans for today?

Aaarghhhh!

Ha ha!

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Published in: on April 16, 2009 at 12:50  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. That’ll be me tomorrow… “You’re not depositing much.” “I gotta pay rent.”

  2. Very brave on being cheeky and going back to apologise. That shit makes me feel snappy as well and I also detest the Bank of Scotland. The modern bank has more in common with a fucking McDonalds drive-thru than, well, a bank. Hope next time your McTeller has more McBrains and dumps the McSmall-talk.


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