Mother in line: “Jimmy! Stop sucking on that…you doesn’t know where it’s been!”
Customer at counter: “Wes (the apparent plural of ‘we’) done did have an account here, ‘bout twenty years ago. Can’t you look it up on that there computin’ thing?”
Mother in line: “Jimmy! Take it out your mouth. TAKE IT OUT!”
Teller line manager: “Without an account here we couldn’t cash it for you no-how.”
Mother in line: “Jimmy! Get down from there ‘afor you break your head.”
Jimmy: *whining*
Mother in line: “GET DOWN!”
Male customer in line: “And that’s why I use condoms.” (This was completely unrelated to the whole ‘Jimmy and his mom’ thing that was going on and was actually part of a different conversation. But it was still freaking comedy gold!)
Mother in line: “…and NO, you aint gettin’ no lollipop!”
But the entire crowd fell silent as a large, rather pungent woman waddled toward the counter. The teller was momentarily (and visibly) horrified but managed to cover it well. “I,” croaked a voice heavy with smoker’s cough, “want to make a deposit.” A large beefy hand crept up across the wide expanse of faded, flowered muumuu…heading for the collar. A silent shudder ran through the crowd as the mitt like hand was plunged deep into the folds of the circus tent sized muumuu…and from some sweaty, slimy, bra-less place it reemerged clutching a wad of soggy greenbacks.
Jimmy: “Mommy…I threw up.”
My sentiments exactly.
Customer at counter: “Wes (the apparent plural of ‘we’) done did have an account here, ‘bout twenty years ago. Can’t you look it up on that there computin’ thing?”
Mother in line: “Jimmy! Take it out your mouth. TAKE IT OUT!”
Teller line manager: “Without an account here we couldn’t cash it for you no-how.”
Mother in line: “Jimmy! Get down from there ‘afor you break your head.”
Jimmy: *whining*
Mother in line: “GET DOWN!”
Male customer in line: “And that’s why I use condoms.” (This was completely unrelated to the whole ‘Jimmy and his mom’ thing that was going on and was actually part of a different conversation. But it was still freaking comedy gold!)
Mother in line: “…and NO, you aint gettin’ no lollipop!”
But the entire crowd fell silent as a large, rather pungent woman waddled toward the counter. The teller was momentarily (and visibly) horrified but managed to cover it well. “I,” croaked a voice heavy with smoker’s cough, “want to make a deposit.” A large beefy hand crept up across the wide expanse of faded, flowered muumuu…heading for the collar. A silent shudder ran through the crowd as the mitt like hand was plunged deep into the folds of the circus tent sized muumuu…and from some sweaty, slimy, bra-less place it reemerged clutching a wad of soggy greenbacks.
Jimmy: “Mommy…I threw up.”
My sentiments exactly.
5 comments:
I was laughing till I got to the end... then I died a little inside.
Did you really hear all of this? If so... dear... God....
Sadly, yes.
I think the muumuu visits the library and her library card rests in the same depths of Mordor as her money. Which is why I will never do circulation.
Did Jimmy really barf? Btw, it's good to know who uses condoms. Do you think he was advertising? ~R
Yes, poor little Jimmy actually did vomit on the marble floor of the bank lobby.
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