I hate banks. Despise all of them. In my opinion, the cheque book became utterly pointless the second the internet was invented. Whenever someone hands me a cheque it seems like a retaliatory slight, revenge against me for requiring the money from them in the first place. Overwhelming is the ambivalent blend of joy that I’ve received some funds and sinking dread that in the very near future, I’ll need to walk into a bank in order to cash it.
This goes too, for the huge amount of coins I’ve received during my fundraising efforts. Don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon about how much I’ve received, but from the outset before I signed up to Hitch, I knew this day would come.
I’d separated out the coins into separate envelopes to try and minimise the length of time I’d have to spend in the horror of the post-modern décor that most banks favour, but as I walked in, I realised the giant queue would make a mockery of this preparation, which was unexpected as I’d intentionally ventured there at an hour specifically picked as unlikely to be anyone’s lunch break. I waited in the queue for thirty-five minutes before I was beckoned over by the teller, ever-smiling like every member staff to make you believe that they could potentially be helpful individuals, in spite of the over applied bureaucracy that will invariably prevent this from being the case. “I can’t accept it in envelopes” she insisted, palming me a wad of plastic change bags through the gap in the window, “It needs to be in proper coin bags, or failing that, you could use the self service machine over there.” My gaze followed her pointing finger to the darkened reaches of the bank, the machine in question illuminated by a single, eerily flickering fluorescent light. I approached the unfamiliar device with caution. I’ve had the misfortune of stepping foot into this bank many times before and had never noticed it. I prayed it would be uncomplicated enough even for someone whom had never used it before to grasp, thus expediting my escape from this terrible place. As I inserted my card into the slot, I realised I would not be given the chance to find out, as the contraption whirred a deep rumble from within and then vanished my card into the ether, returning to its original state as though my card had never been submitted.
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| Most bank queues are slower moving than this. |
Back in the queue, trembling from exposure to what was rapidly becoming my home away from home; I forced myself to avoid looking at the clock on the wall. I had been sat down in one of the banks intentionally uncomfortable “arm chairs” to sort the coins into the plastic baggies for the last ten minutes and it is now dark outside. As luck of the draw would have it, I ended up seeing the same teller as before, who was less smiley this time as if unhappy by the fact I wasn’t inconvenienced enough to just storm out and leave her in peace. I remained polite as before, while explaining the situation and having to give her my account number and sort code to make up for the card loss. She took the cash from me and threw each bag one by one onto the scale to count it and then proceeded to add up the results on a calculator at the pace of a sedated tortoise (but what do I know? Time had lost all meaning to me by this point) to arrive at a figure and looked at me for confirmation. I shrugged and agreed, even though I couldn’t remember what day light looked like, let alone the value of the money I’d handed her an eternity ago.
The teller cancelled my lost card and ordered me a new one, which will end up going to my Mum’s address, because I told the bank I live there so I wouldn’t have to go in once a year to update my address whenever I move to a new place in Preston. That’s certainly counting against me now.
I hope you’ve enjoyed my tale of woe.
Current total: £78.98. This evening another hitcher, Charlie Craven came to visit me with a proposition for a joint fundraising effort. We are now in the process of organising a charity gig in Preston, starring a load of great local bands at some point in late January. We’ll start approaching potential venues tomorrow, so watch this space!
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