But it is humid out. Like soup. I'm schvitzin like a puddin' at a picnic.
I opened an account at Bank of America when I moved to this neighborhood 18 years ago. It was a bank. It was close. They had lots of ATMs about then. This was American suburbia back then.
I went back for the first time today with a bucket of change, counting on them to have those coin counting machines free for account holders. Nope. And the place has a combination check cashing joint and motor vehicles administration offices vibe, with a hint of third world. For instance. There are guards now. The carpet is gone. The linoleum is dirty. The queue is long. And no coin counting machine. Drat.
"Why do you have an account at that anti-2A joint, T-Bolt?"
Well, I like to have two accounts. One a credit union (from my Navy days) and one a commercial bank, this. That way if one sector has distress I can switch over and have all my paycheck go to the ok institution and it's already ready. And it's still Bank of America because of inertia. I pay my manual and variable online bills through them. Gas bill. Electric. Ones where it changes month to month I don't want to set to automatic. What if a water bill is issued for $2788.33? Obviously a mistake, but I don't want that shooting off without my making it so. Fixed amount bills go through the credit loan as do big loans. Life insurance payments, car payments, IRA payments, home mortgage, all go through the credit union. The amounts don't vary.
It's just how I got it set up.
Now I have to think on maybe setting up something besides the moribund Bank of America.
Oops
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Yesterday at work about did in my legs.
It should have been no big deal. I've done it dozens of times: we
change all the replaceable light bulbs...
9 hours ago
2 comments:
"Moribund" isn't the right word. "Declassé" might be what you're looking for, or "multicultural," or "lumpenproletarian." "Oikophile."
https://youtu.be/at8hZpXyykM
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