Resume of Red - The Tale of the Red Headed Teller

Red Week (Weak?) Continues!

Pay day is a happy time for me as I’m sure it is for most folks; coffers replenished with fresh funds and renewed hope that your job is at the very least pulling you ahead in style. It’s also a time for this Cannibal to go pay a few bills at the bank, yes friends, this cash cuddling carnivore has been slow to embrace the online banking philosophy, but I come about it honestly. At any rate, I saunter into the bank with a new shirt, newly shaved head and a mitt full of credit card bills. I take my place at the front of the line and await a financial nymph to call me forward, give me license to proceed with my transaction. A blonde walked her eyes over me as I stood there, I gave a smirk and she shyly turned away back to her customer. Hmm, I hope she’s my teller, ‘cos I’d teller to take me home and ravage me (yikes!). Just then this screaming hot redhead named Susan (it said so right on her left tit) comes out of the back talking to a co-worker, spots me, excuses herself from her conversation and makes her way towards a window workstation or transaction trough as I like to call it.

Dayam! Hang tight and I'll get you a fork.

Way out of my league - incredibly long legs, vibrant eyes and I’m not really a breast fanatic but this woman could make my bookshelves jealous. Sorry young buck, you’ll have to take this one on the bearded chin, yet another chapter in my Resume of Red - "these are not the droids you are looking for". She calls me forward; she’s got a very nice smile – wide with white teeth. I hand her my bills and bank card, she begins to process my request after awaiting my instruction; whittle down some weight from the cards. Her eyes roll over my screen info and she begins to make a few suggestions on flipping me to another plan which is more in line with my spastic spending habits - less fees means more please. Fine by me, save me a few bucks a month and then she applies a few more concessions to my account. Nice girl I think as the conversation continues, she’s most certainly a forward thinking creature, considerate of her clientele. She makes fun of the fact that I’ve signed up for online banking a few times and never once honored or even activated the administrative password with a 24hr lifespan. I say that I work with systems all day and that the last thing I want to do is come home and press buttons. Her smirk grows and she says, “Well maybe you haven’t found the right buttons to push” and quite obviously pushes her cannons toward me (if I were famous I would've autographed them for her - "To Poncho & Lefty, Luv U.C."). I laugh a little uncomfortably. She writes down my new account password on a slip of paper, I half expect her phone number to be on it, but it’s not. On with the show.

She turns back to her monitor and we continue our chat, she says “Oh, you go to Woody’s Taphouse? Which one?” referring to a small chain of watering holes in this neck of the woods. I must have had a puzzled look on my face at this point but pointed nonetheless at the tap house 100 yards from the bank door. “I work there on weekends” she continues, “I’ve never seen you there!” (hmm, scrolling through my transaction history?)

“I mostly go during the week, fewer yahoo's that way.”
“Yeah, weekends certainly have those.”

We carry on for a little longer and then she recaps all the things she’s done for my account and how I should now be able to this and that and then says “anything else I can do for you to make your life better?”
“Free beer is always nice” I mutter, sort of shocked that I got the nerve
“hmm, lucky for you I’ve been known to forget to charge from time to time”.

We say our goodbyes and “it’s been really nice to meet you” and off I go.

Ok, let’s examine the facts. This woman is a barmaid/bank teller who knows how much money I make, what my credit is like, maybe what my stock portfolio looks like, she knows I own a house and that I drink beer. Hmm. She must’ve also seen my horrendous spending at comic book shops, DVD's, Video Games and toy stores yet she still chose to bait her hook or did she? Do I "show up" next weekend with the Dark Pig in tow? Do I brush it all off as yet another red headed health detriment? Please advise? Another Bunny Boiler? Another addition to the Red Army? What about privacy invasion?

* In the past some people have figured that the theme song I post at the bottom of every blawg is a work of fiction. I can assure you that for the most part this is not true (98% actually) and to share these songs with you I figured I'd link to the song in question so you too can share in the music and read along to it should you see fit. Right Click and "Save Target As" or open it in a new window if you wish, either way let me know what you think and I may keep doing it if it all proves to enhance your enjoyment.

Due to space restrictions songs will only remain active for about a week to retain room for new material, enjoy!

This song is dedicated to my pal Cody, his woman and their newborn son, he just spent hours coming out and he'll spend the rest of his life trying to get back in, all the best.

iPod played "Dr.Hook - Lookin' for Pussy" while posting