After a fortifying breakfast at Fran Keller's Eatery on Saturday, we headed off to take care of some banking formalities that required two signatures.
It turned out to be a long but entertaining morning.
The bank representative, a pleasant young man, told us with some embarrassment that he'd just managed to lock himself out of his computer. He apologized to us profusely and tried phoning several colleagues.
While we were waiting for them to return his calls, the three of us chatted and we learned that the fellow was a recent transplant to this branch. His tenure so far has been varied: he took a training class on the bank's new perks for account holders and he replaced the side mirror on his branch manager's car (she promised him a case of beer in return).
Given that it was a Saturday morning in the summer, it was no surprise that nobody was responding to his messages. As a last resort, he begged the bank intern to figure out a work-around.
The capable intern managed to get the computer up and running; I foresee some gold stars on his evaluation. He even managed not to be too smug about it.
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