Banking clerks are well versed educated people who dress well know each atom of money one has in one’s pocket and can add and sub-tract and when you do join the queue, they know how to drag it along. The failure of the banking system is we are no longer human so dislike the queues and the asking penitently for mortgages and stuff.
Here are the keys to the house home and may you end up cleaning it for the end of your days.
“Thank you and may I thank all of you for your kindness and here is a bottle of something to while away the day in the office.”
“Thank you very much lubrications do us well.”
Here are the weirdos who walk the road without any money said my daddy to the insolvent and he a man of amiable qualities he did not qualify yet he did the work.
Truth be told you are sacked again.”
“Against company policy the workers are not sacked at all.”
“Only who then?”
“No amount of talking Is enough.”
More song ang dancing at the bank it is one way of standing in the long queue they never employ enough staff they seem to fear the new employee who makes mistakes over the over count.
“We have machines now to do just that.” The piles went into the machine and I lick my lips.
We dismay ourselves at the social security how humble we might be but when we join the ranks of the systematic bankers who are inside a bank, we let rip the ripple of the muscles until the bank managers can’t stand the strain and take all our money. They have to give it back but being unaware that they have denials and stuff they only give selectively. It is some people they dislike more than anyone else.
Ask my bankers they know me very well and they do select me and de select zealously to the last drop of coins which they might have from me. No more pip for you no more sureties or this lending rights- or that we will sue you towards zero,
Bankers are the most important people on the planet and they deserve some respect they have more responsibilities and all that.” Said my granddad and my dad and the uncles and cousins adding to the monopoly. We can give you fart all but when it comes to the system we can cater to the abusers and make you the part of shame.”
“I am not going to do it.”
“Then we can candle the flame and lit it on.”
“That the bankers do not know this right?”
“We are unaware of such stuff happening. Where are the deeds which we since did not see?”
“Your mother was right to wrong to dismiss you as a manager you have mismanaged her for years.”
“Her financial status only improved when the B took over.”
“Overrated I am sure and most unfair.”
“Life is never fair.”
Click of the high heels and they wander off and to the next customer more robust in money.
“Gold coins more properties and plenty bonuses for us.”
“For years and years.”
“We now work part time because of you.”
“It is a disaster being inside this banking system no bankers right.”
“Wrongful dismissal I am sure.” I speak out to that. I have no job but still smile to them. I am haggling over a hundred-pound check which mother has cheekily given me and want to know when it can be cashed in.
“Sorry this check is post dated come back with the right date.”
I dart off so embarrassed.
That they do it with a smile makes me seek help from the resourceful psychologist but sometimes I think they all lie to me. I mean where is the point when the bank manager says there is no hope in hell of you to come home with something called an income? It is like the late running of the trains you seem never to arrive.
The bank manager was not having any of it no doubt having the domestic was not in their idea of what is money. A money-making idea would do the trick and all that but what we want is ideas and clean and squeaky living and why do you ask for money when you have hardly any in there? The gag went on and on until the abuser was told sod it you are in the right. Because they had the money and that matters when money matters more than right and wrong and when mother is in the money when everyone has money it means they can be mean. It is bitterness is it not to think that money is the ultimate thing we have that makes us all in the right? When we were in the wrong it was because we were poor living as paupers now, we are in largeness and behaving like the fiends who made us lose.
“We heard such rumours and some saying that we were doing the wrong thing that mother was doing right.”
“You Are in the wrong.”
“Someone is nearing down the call the calls are coming thick and fast.”
“We must hear the call that you are disruptive and troublesome and a trouble maker a social.”
“All of the neighbourhood want us out.”
“Yes, we have had enough of it.”
“We are respectable neighbourhood without a doubt we are.”
“We dislike foreigners who do not have any money.”
“Breaking from tradition is not us.”
“We must have foreigners working not living on the social.”
“We must have the money for us for the Brits.”
“We dislike the things which you have taken from us. Our dignity is such we do not ask for much.”
“Foreigners are not now welcome. All thrown out.”
“Everyone of muck must leave.”
“Please do not speak to me like that I have a British passport.”
“But you are not one of us?”
“What are you?”
“We are paler than you.”
“We are darker so we have jobs.”
“I am in between so what does that make me?”
“It makes you stupid.”
“Banks are disapproving of you.”
“They are a bit iffy.”
“They seem to think you have no sense.”
“They are right. “I agree.
“Harass her out of shops and make her life a misery.”
“The thing is we are nothing if not thorough.”
“Bred like thoroughbreds.”
“I am being destroyed.”
“Just because you do nothing all day.” It is various faces of banker’s clerks and they do not annoy me so much by saying I do nothing all day.
I am a worthy woman too. I am worthless I say to the shadows and the songs in the bank spill over to my nerves and they not going away. The sounds of the beat and the movement of silenced spectators make me animosity intense and there is almost this cruelty like in the old days the bankers would be near the river to drown the broken and the borrowers. Now they play emotional songs and while them away.
Most appropriately there is now a sign which says mad people are sponsored too. I think about it all the time how are they sponsored spoon fed or what do the bank do. And of course, the all that things about the banks giving money is a lie too. I have not had no word from these beasts they are laughing at me. Paranoid delusional and all that. I am in an altered state in an alternative world where everyone is cruel because I am the victim.
“I am the abuser of this system?”
“That the system is about the right of the rich to fast forward into the lives of the poor. The poor do not have anything that is why the rich are more important.”
“Of course, they are they can come and take anything they can.”
“We will rob you and robe you in a crown and then we will set a match to your dreams.”
Then I go to the counter and smile and they ask the accounts details and give them the answer and I say to myself one of these days I will forget all the details all that there is. In there and go and wander and wander all on my own just like those foolish people who would go and drown themselves in the river where the bankers would give them their appointments.