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Tuesday, March 19, 2002

The new teller at the bank didn't mean to ask me for a photo ID. After all, I was just depositing money into the company account, not trying to cash a tax refund check or borrow from my Christmas club. It was a $40,000 deposit, which required a manager's approval, but I'd never been questioned before and was thrown off guard.

"You need my ID so I can make this deposit?" I said in mock (well, not mock, actual) disbelief, a sneer curling my lips. I pulled out my wallet.

"No, that's okay," she said quietly, properly humbled. I was embarrassed as I put the wallet back in my pocket. She was embarrassed. Neither of us mentioned our embarrassment, and the transaction concluded on a friendly note, with smiles and everything.

"Have a nice day."

"You, too."

I usually treat people better than that.

Typical: The Boss faxes me a five-page (single-spaced) specification to type, then within five minutes calls and asks if now would be a good time to go over the financial statements.

"That depends on how important this spec is and how soon you need it typed."

"Well, why don't you do that first."

Why, sure. I'll get to it right after I'm finished screaming curses at the walls and throwing things across the room. Then I'll call and we'll talk, 'kay?

No wonder I drink.

Oh, wait. I don't.


A recent sunset.

More bird stuff: I was telling Bonnie this afternoon about the pair of mockingbirds skittering around the yard, darting in tandem up and down over the house and garden. They seemed to be having great fun, but the dove sitting on the fence just shook its head and looked down its beak at this whole display. Every so often they'd land on the fence near the dove, singing in a wren-like warble, and then they'd take off again while the dove puffed itself up like a yard-duty monitor. A sparrow accidentally wandered into the mockers' airspace at one point and looked totally lost before taking refuge in the high grass.

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