Got Cash?

Here’s a mind-blower:

The other day, I went to the bank to deposit and check and get a little cash.

After making some small-talk, the pleasant teller lady produced my cash…from a cash-dispenser!


It looked like an office recycling bin, except with the black paper recepticle sticking out to give paper.

I asked the gal about it, and she said she loved it. ‘No more worries’, or something to that effect.

About counting five – five! – Andrew Jacksons? Seriously?

In college, in the days before our credit card craze, I worked a movie theater box office. We’d take in $3-$4000 easily, in cash. The till was off by $1.50 if it was off at all. It was among the most brain-dead activities one can think of. Was I ever worried about getting it wrong? Nope.

Now, to think that some company somewhere spent millions to design, test, market and sell a machine that would dispense five bills as a time. Gosh, maybe even ten of them.

I didn’t bother to ask about it further. Though I’m no cynic, I’m sure that bank policy would cite ‘security’ or similar nonsense. Yes, Sue the teller, watched by three video cameras at the place of her employment, is actually going to pocket a twenty. That’s a worthwhile device.

What’s next? Cars that turn the headlights on automatically, so that people don’t have to trouble themselves?

Oh, wait…

The Trouble with Fido…(or really, The Trouble with Owner)…

The other day, I witnessed something that really makes me question other people’s common sense. Some people just don’t have it.

The kids and I were at our favorite cafe, goofing around with Grandpa and Grandma.

Outside, someone (a tall, older man, I think) had leashed a dog to one of the cafe’s outdoor tables in the plaza. Little plastic-topped tables. Within sight were two metal rings affixed to concrete pillars – the proper way to tie up Fido. Maybe the owner didn’t see them. The table would be good enough, right? The little table that my 4-year-old has proven she can lift? Good enough?


(Fido, by the way, was a mature golden retriever, weighing at least 50 pounds.)

The owner came inside to use the bank next to the cafe. One second, the dog’s waiting happily in the cold December air. The next second, FLIGHT! It’s off.

For whatever reason, the dog bolted and EASILY dragged the table – right into the intersection. I heard a couple patrons catch their breath, and I think I knew what would happen. A silver sedan hit the dog right away. The dog, struck in the left side, scampered up and raced out-of-sight to the left,┬ádragging the broken table leg.

I don’t know what happened to the dog. The j-a owner magically appeared, drawn by epic tragedy, and followed the startled reactions of other people.

There was no blood. Fido was not run over per se. Still, I’m relieved the kids were behind the counter and did not witness the carnage. Talk about traumatic.

As my son came out to see what had happened, I tried to explain it. All I could think of was ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid’.

Why would you ever put your faith in an animal (a big one) and then compound that miscue by placing faith in a little table?

It doesn’t matter what the dog was or wasn’t supposed to do. It’s a dog, right? Animals are unpredictable (see terrier, pit bull or cat, domestic). I mean, would the guy be as short-sighted with little kids? You won’t wander in the street because I’m telling you you won’t wander in the street!

People say that accidents are always going to happen, that tragedy can’t be avoided.

Sometimes, I beg to differ.