Today I went out to pick up a few things and the store where I shopped was near a Best Buy. Here, I saw what could only be described as Super Bowl fever gone horribly awry. On the curb in front of the Best Buy is the box for one of those huge screen tv's (the kind that take up the better part of a room). Being lashed to the top of a mini-van with what appeared to be twine, was the actual tv. It was amazing. They just tossed it up top of the mini-van and lashed it down. This seemed like a less than stellar plan to get it where it need to go.

Yesterday was the day of errand running. Mostly I'm not too annoyed by having to do them. It is one of the few times that I don't have Thing 1 and Thing 2 in tow. However, the Things would have been much more preferable than my banking experience. I needed to get a bank check. This meant I needed to speak to one of those people that appear to have more standing than the tellers as they sit at desks. I'm standing waiting and this guy appears with his extra jumbo sized Dunkin Donuts coffee and asks if I need help. I take one look and know that this is going to be one of my most horrific banking experiences if not the most horrific experience.

To say that this man was disgruntled does not begin to describe it. He had Vito hands down in the annoyance category. He obviously found the job beneath him and had no problem conveying this to me. It pained him that I needed him to do his job. What made this particularly annoying was he had no idea what he was doing. He wanted me to close out my FIDUCIARY account and open my own account with the money. I explained that as a fiduciary, I felt it important to keep the funds in a fiduciary account. This seemed to only enrage him more. He finally provides what I need and I go to the teller.

Now, the teller is another story entirely. I hand her the check that Mr. Helpful has written out for me and she says, "What am I suppose to do with this?" I explain my need for a bank check. She then wants to know why I wrote it out the way it was. (At this point she was sorta snotty). I then explained that I had no input into the way the check was written and Mr. Helpful had written it. She then stops being snotty and becomes my ally. Apparently, Mr. Helpful was not loved among his co-workers. She goes over to Mr. Helpful and tells him that he will have to re-write the check because yes--it was done entirely wrong. This causes Mr. Helpful further angst. After 40 minutes--I left with the proper check.

I think the tupperpotty parties are an excellent idea.