How long had he been standing in line? Samuel looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Both time pieces showed five minutes past nine.
So he had been on his feet for forty minutes. That was why his feet were beginning to hurt so much! He should never have worn these new shoes. But his wife and daughter had insisted that he should wear the new ones which he received in the barrel only days before. He should never have listened to them.
He counted the number of people still in front of him- ten. That meant that twenty had already been attended to and left. When he had pushed open the door and had seen the length of the line, he had almost turned around and walked out. He had planned to be among the first in the bank but others had the same idea. He joined the line.
He hated coming to the bank just as much as he hated standing in line and he wondered why couldn't there be some other way.
They could provide seats and numbered tickets then a man could sit down and rest his feet while he waited for his number to be called. Standing in line was not for him. That was for the police or army or schoolchildren.
Children... he mused. If it were not for them he would not be enduring this punishment waiting in line. He would have kept his cheque till after the holidays when the banks would be almost empty except for those people sneaking to interfere with their savings and the business people with their heavy bags containing the wealth of the Christmas shoppers.
But when a man had a wife and four children, life can be hell at times, he thought as he shuffled his aching feet. Nobody know the sacrifice a man has to undergo just to make them happy. Yet they behaved as if it was their right and it was his duty. Sometimes he felt as f he could just go away to some far place where they couldn't find him.
He shut out the wandering thoughts and looked around. His eyes fell on the person standing directly in front of him. From behind she appeared to be a young woman with an appealing figure and the denim jeans accentuated the well round posterior.
He was a man with an eye for beautiful women and she looked like one. Just as he was about to compliment her in his flirtatious manner she turned and looked at him smilingly. He stared open-mouth for a few seconds, mumbled something then turned away. He realized that a woman in a pair of jeans seen from the rear can truly mislead any man. This woman was no spring chicken as a matter of fact, she was almost ugly especially with all that make-up and the nasty colour lipstick. He fixed his gaze on the counter.
There were six windows but only three were manned even though there were five young women standing around, artificial smiles painted on their faces. They were every shade of brown and good looking too. But they appeared to be idling while so many people were waiting in line.
He asked himself why was it that when so many people were waiting, all tellers were not in attendance. It may be that there is some industrial action by the workers and they were on a 'Go Slow'. But there was nothing in the news about that! And what was that gum-chewing supervisor smiling into the telephone receiver doing to ease the strain on all the those people waiting in the line.
He would write to the newspaper about how the banks treat people waiting in line.
When he glanced behind him again, he was amazed to see the line had snaked around the room and now there must be about fifty people quietly shuffling. There were some subdued murmurs which caused Samuel to wonder why people tend to whisper and murmur in the banks. They never talk aloud, he thought he knew why. Money! Money is power and people respect and fear power.
He checked ahead, again. There were only four people before his turn. Suddenly he became uneasy. His stomach had given him the faintest of aches, and he knew the sign. Something was stirring and if he didn't respond to it, soon it could spell disaster for him. If only he had a Coke! A hot coca cola was just the miracle cure for a running stomach. It had rescued him from so many embarrassing situations in the past. But after waiting in line for a long time he could not give up his place to go in search of a coke or a place of refuge.
Place of refuge! Do they provide toilets for customers in the bank? He had never seen nor heard of any. That was shameful. He must write about that too.
Even the church had toilets for its congregation as he knew very well. He remembered the time when he had literally messed up the long boring service. Samuel didn't want to recall any details about his humiliation.
He looked at the tellers again. They were so young almost children. He had two children he was sure who were older that they. This was one of the reasons that he hated banks having to reveal his personal finances to some little boy or girl he didn't know. Who could tell if they don't talk his business outside to their friends and family.. in this country there is nothing called secret or confidential.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the escaping gas from his seat. He almost fainted. But thank God it was dry.
As the stench spread through the air conditioned room, there were varying reactions. Some people were blowing their nose, some sucking their teeth and one female blurt out:
"Oh My Goodness! Somebody dead"
At first he felt conspicuous with guilt as if everyone was staring at him. But with all those people in the room there was no way to tell who the culprit was. There was no name tag on a smell.
Even the tellers looked subdued now, their smiles had vanished that was good for them. He didn't care.
Samuel counted his cash carefully, placed it in his wallet and scampered out thinking that waiting in line can be hell.
Roy Benjamin
December, 2000
So he had been on his feet for forty minutes. That was why his feet were beginning to hurt so much! He should never have worn these new shoes. But his wife and daughter had insisted that he should wear the new ones which he received in the barrel only days before. He should never have listened to them.
He counted the number of people still in front of him- ten. That meant that twenty had already been attended to and left. When he had pushed open the door and had seen the length of the line, he had almost turned around and walked out. He had planned to be among the first in the bank but others had the same idea. He joined the line.
He hated coming to the bank just as much as he hated standing in line and he wondered why couldn't there be some other way.
They could provide seats and numbered tickets then a man could sit down and rest his feet while he waited for his number to be called. Standing in line was not for him. That was for the police or army or schoolchildren.
Children... he mused. If it were not for them he would not be enduring this punishment waiting in line. He would have kept his cheque till after the holidays when the banks would be almost empty except for those people sneaking to interfere with their savings and the business people with their heavy bags containing the wealth of the Christmas shoppers.
But when a man had a wife and four children, life can be hell at times, he thought as he shuffled his aching feet. Nobody know the sacrifice a man has to undergo just to make them happy. Yet they behaved as if it was their right and it was his duty. Sometimes he felt as f he could just go away to some far place where they couldn't find him.
He shut out the wandering thoughts and looked around. His eyes fell on the person standing directly in front of him. From behind she appeared to be a young woman with an appealing figure and the denim jeans accentuated the well round posterior.
He was a man with an eye for beautiful women and she looked like one. Just as he was about to compliment her in his flirtatious manner she turned and looked at him smilingly. He stared open-mouth for a few seconds, mumbled something then turned away. He realized that a woman in a pair of jeans seen from the rear can truly mislead any man. This woman was no spring chicken as a matter of fact, she was almost ugly especially with all that make-up and the nasty colour lipstick. He fixed his gaze on the counter.
There were six windows but only three were manned even though there were five young women standing around, artificial smiles painted on their faces. They were every shade of brown and good looking too. But they appeared to be idling while so many people were waiting in line.
He asked himself why was it that when so many people were waiting, all tellers were not in attendance. It may be that there is some industrial action by the workers and they were on a 'Go Slow'. But there was nothing in the news about that! And what was that gum-chewing supervisor smiling into the telephone receiver doing to ease the strain on all the those people waiting in the line.
He would write to the newspaper about how the banks treat people waiting in line.
When he glanced behind him again, he was amazed to see the line had snaked around the room and now there must be about fifty people quietly shuffling. There were some subdued murmurs which caused Samuel to wonder why people tend to whisper and murmur in the banks. They never talk aloud, he thought he knew why. Money! Money is power and people respect and fear power.
He checked ahead, again. There were only four people before his turn. Suddenly he became uneasy. His stomach had given him the faintest of aches, and he knew the sign. Something was stirring and if he didn't respond to it, soon it could spell disaster for him. If only he had a Coke! A hot coca cola was just the miracle cure for a running stomach. It had rescued him from so many embarrassing situations in the past. But after waiting in line for a long time he could not give up his place to go in search of a coke or a place of refuge.
Place of refuge! Do they provide toilets for customers in the bank? He had never seen nor heard of any. That was shameful. He must write about that too.
Even the church had toilets for its congregation as he knew very well. He remembered the time when he had literally messed up the long boring service. Samuel didn't want to recall any details about his humiliation.
He looked at the tellers again. They were so young almost children. He had two children he was sure who were older that they. This was one of the reasons that he hated banks having to reveal his personal finances to some little boy or girl he didn't know. Who could tell if they don't talk his business outside to their friends and family.. in this country there is nothing called secret or confidential.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the escaping gas from his seat. He almost fainted. But thank God it was dry.
As the stench spread through the air conditioned room, there were varying reactions. Some people were blowing their nose, some sucking their teeth and one female blurt out:
"Oh My Goodness! Somebody dead"
At first he felt conspicuous with guilt as if everyone was staring at him. But with all those people in the room there was no way to tell who the culprit was. There was no name tag on a smell.
Even the tellers looked subdued now, their smiles had vanished that was good for them. He didn't care.
Samuel counted his cash carefully, placed it in his wallet and scampered out thinking that waiting in line can be hell.
Roy Benjamin
December, 2000
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