Dear People,

There comes a time in one's life when you find yourself having an out of body experience - ya know the one where you wake up and realize that you are covered in blood holding the cylindrical tubey thingy from the drive up bank teller and you tell the officer, really sir - I have no idea what just happened - but after the third time the car in front of me sent the tube back, everything went black and now I am standing here.

Dear people -

I say this now as a form of therapy - or perhaps an intervention - so as to save someonelse's life and prevent me from spending the rest of my life behind bars.

• IF you choose to go to the drive up bank - BE PREPARED!!!!!! That lovely covered breezeway is not a parking zone for you rest in the shade while you lazily thumb through your paperwork and arrange and re-calculate your numbers.


• It is also NOT a place for you to go and ask questions, and send love notes back and forth and back and forth and back and forth..... if you don't have the required paper to sign your life away to the bank THEN GO INSIDE!!!!!!


• The Commercial lane is for COMMERCIAL BUSINESS!!! I know you lovely people in the 20 year old rusty clankers with the passenger with bare feet hanging out the window are not there turning in last night's cash receipts!! You are not so smart that you get to go into that lane before the line of 4 cars waiting the lane right next to it!!!


• The big black tubey thingy IS NOT A GIFT!! I cannot tell you how many times I have driven up behind someone who has driven off with the tube in the car. If you are that important or absent minded that you cannot remember to return the tube for the next customer - PARK YOUR CAR!!! You probably shouldn't be driving anyway.


• Though highly trained and responsible - BANK TELLERS ARE NOT YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANTS OR ACCOUNTANTS - have your own pens, know your own account numbers, fill out your own papers, and do your own math - correctly.

Please, please, please.... I am begging you... drive up - send your s%$# - and leave.

Warmest Regards,

The apoplectic customer behind you who has no problem running you over with her car.