-
Posted in snippets on August 15, 2013.
You walk into the bank, and wait in line hoping you don't get the
teller that's two weeks away from retiring. Except that you do. You
sheepishly ask for a slew of ones because you're not as wholesome as
you let on. Old beady eyes stare you down as she counts it back to you
in a scolding tone. Sick bastard.