The other day, in the last ten minutes of my lunch break, I had to hit up the ATM before dashing back to work. I got there and there was a line, but I calculated that if all moved along swiftly, I’d have cash in my pocket and be back at work in time to shoot the shit around the water cooler.
There were two ATMs and one line. Five college girls, a few people ahead of me, congregated together to form one giant person in the line. Things seemed to be moving pretty quickly as rushed wage slaves punched their digits into the machine and swiped their cash. It was all going good till it got to the college chicks.
When they were at the front of the line, waiting for their turn, I saw each of them take about eight cheques out of their pockets. I could vaguely overhear them using words like ‘deposit’ and ‘envelope’ and ‘how do I?’ and I knew things were about to go sour.
When their turn came, the college chicks decided to divide and conquer; three at one ATM, two at another. And not one of them had a clue how to make a deposit.
Here’s where my beef comes in: isn’t it just common sense that if you don’t know how to use a function on an ATM, you don’t decide to test it out during one of the busiest hours of the day, in one of the busiest areas of Toronto? Apparently not.
And these were college students. I deduced this from the multiple cheques. No doubt they were for $12 each and they made them doing online surveys or some such nonsense.
So, as they fumbled and stuffed cheques into envelopes, while forgetting their pin numbers and desperately trying to figure out exactly how to deposit their newly acquired fortunes, I watched minute after painful minute tick by. Haven’t they ever heard of a frikkin’ teller?!
Why do that when most people, who actually work for a living and have other shit to do, are on their lunch hour? Surely, these students could have found some other point in their action packed day to figure out how to use an ATM. They probably have one half hour class a day and spend the other 23.5 hours playing Dance Dance Revolution or some shit.
Eventually, with less than a minute left to get back to work, I had to abandon the whole mission and make a mad dash back to the office. I hope those chicks do something good with the money once it clears.
But I sense they’ll just piss it all away on leggings in American Apparel.