Banking Blues: A Student's Tale of Woe
You
are
about to enter the Book
for several desperately needed items, when you realize that you have no money. You don't have your checkbook with you, so you store
run
out to the Automatic Teller Machine
money, finding lo your thirty other people are doing thing, with the Bookstore clos ing in ten minutes. Impatiently you join the line, which proceeds at the rate of a tired snail. As you wait you contemplate
to
get
some
horror that
the
same
the carpet of littie white tickets that the machine spits out tirelessly, ostensibly to give you an official record of your
"banking transactions," but realistically give the illusion that something is real ly happening behind that implacable
to
computer
screen.
Miraculously, you make it to the head of the line with minutes to spare. With great relief you slide your card into the appropriate slot. There clicks and
are a
few quiet
bleeps, then the ATM requests
your code number. You lift your hand to the number pad and ft-eeze, drawing a total blank. Your mind works furiously; you know you know it, you just can't think of it when you have to. The person
behind you coughs discreetly, and wildly punch in some numbers.
you
The
computer spits your card back out, and you can just hear it laughing to itself. Swearing under your breath, you try again. "There's an 8 and a 4, I know," you mutter, punching in another combi nation. Another rejection. The line next to you moves on, and you hear the person behind you shuffle his feet rest
lessly
and clear his throat.
time.
As you slide the card in again, you the machine giggling happily to
Try
one more
can see
its chips in anticipation. Warily you eye it, then hit the numbers rapidly. Maybe if you do it fast enough
itself, rubbing
the computer won't realize that it is wrong. No such luck. As it gleefufly swallows your card back all you have to do is have a long chat with the branch manager, consent to
seven
years of hard
labor, and relinquish all claims to your future earnings. Sighing with defeat, you turn away, avoiding the sympathetic of those in line behind you. You'll to go to the bank tomortow. Not until minutes later does it hit you
stares
just have
today is Friday, and it is a long weekend. Wearily emptying your pockets you count up your total and
possible
wonder,
to survive for four
days
is it on
twenty-seven cents? G.H.W.