ACCOUNTANT BY DAY

A smelly old man I didn’t recognize walked in late on a busy Saturday afternoon. Looking sour, he waited in line until it as his turn, at which point he approached my window and shoved a crumpled check through.

“Cash this,” he said.

I took the check and looked at it. It was a US Treasury check for social security benefits.

“Now,” he said.

“Have you ever cashed a check with us before, sir?” I asked.

“No!” He looked angry about something. Probably his erectile dysfunction, or itchy hemorrhoids or something. I looked his name up in the system anyway and did not find him.

“Hmm…well, on weekends the US Treasury is clo—”

He slammed his hand down on the counter. “Oh, just gimme the goddamn check back, you stupid bitch!” he shouted.

I looked at him, pressing my lips tightly together to keep from laughing in his face. “Certainly, sir,” I said politely, passing his check through the window. “I hope you have fun being broke all weekend,” I did not add.  Instead I smiled to show how totally not affected I was.
“Aw, go fuck yerself,” he muttered.

I smiled brightly, hating him.

He turned and left, full of apparent rage at my having failed to quail at his harsh words. He tried to slam the door hard behind him to punctuate his anger, but was foiled by the catch device installed at the top of many glass shop doors which prevents them from closing too hard.

This made him look very silly, and I think it was the laughter of the other customers in the lobby that made him stamp his foot on the sidewalk outside and spit furiously on the ground.

And so passed another fool from our doors.