Saying that Pat, Missy the Turbo Pup, and I are tired would be a gross understatement, but other words escape me this morning.
I have to admit that I am personally more than just a little pissed off over a phone conversation I had yesterday...but I'll get over it because I refuse to let anything get in the way of enjoying the moment.
Any way...after spending the night in the Atlanta suburb of Vinnings, later this morning we have to be in an office located in Tennessee, three hours north of here with a certified check in our hands in order to complete our current business transaction.
For those of you in the fiduciary business, and for those of you considering a lifetime of working for a company which derives it's income from fees and charges relating to the daunting task of holding on to other peoples' hard earned money (that would be banks, savings & loans, and brokerage houses)...
Understand my thinking this morning:
When a so called "customer" (that would be me) calls and explains that they (that would be I) don't have time to stand around in a line at a teller window waiting on someone to type the words "xxx tens of thousands of dollars" (plus or minus) on a carbon laden piece of paper, and you (that would be the "customer
In other words, if I want my money I have to stand in line while everyone behind me huffs and puffs and snorts as the bank teller pecks away with two fingers on the typewriter containing the Cashier's Check....
That said, then...
YOU (the aforementioned customer
"I'll take the entire sum in small bills, and right now you're lucky I don't want it tendered (to me, myself, and I) in Euros and/or Pesos."
You're also fortunate my really big hammer is packed away on a truck with the rest of my sharp, pointy objects...
Dammit...
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