Serendipity Doo Dah

And how do you do it?
And make it seem effortless
When it's all the stupid things
So overwhelming to me
Like paying my bills
Or showing up for work early
Or laughing at your jokes

~ Rilo Kiley


Previously on My Life As A Blog:

1) I was terrible with directions.

2) I despised running errands.

3) I was blonde.


So you can imagine then, my trepidation at the prospect of finding a bank near my new job. I work in Farmingdale, and all I know is Wellwood Avenue. Although I don't know if "know" is the proper description, since it was only this morning (my sixth trip to the place) that I realized I had to pass over train tracks to get here.

But anyway, yesterday I am trying to find a branch of my bank, right? I hate going to the bank, but I still have to deposit my Boulder Creek checks. And I don't have an ATM card because I overdrew my account and they punished me. And I haven't gotten a new ATM card because:

a) not being able to touch my money while at a bar is not necessarily a bad thing

b) Please see 2).

c) Whenever I get a new ATM card after I inevitably overdraw my account, I get filled with ambivalence about whether to get debiting power on my card but:


i) I decide yes, that would be the grownup thing to do.

ii) Then they tell me I have to fill out forms.

iii) Please see 2).


But as fate would have it, I am now back at a desk job, and only work at Boulder Creek on the weekend now. Which means, no more cash on hand. ("Cash," mind you, should not be confused with "money.") I really needed to get an ATM card. And I really needed to deposit my Boulder check.

Adding to the urgency is the realization that my life is no longer my own, meaning that I once again have to run errands (when I so choose) with the other dregs of society who crowd up the supermarkets on nights and weekends. So I can't just go to the bank like, when I decide that maybe I should get out of bed before three on any given day. I have a day job again, so my skin is gray and I shuffle along with the other 'bots.

However, I go to -- you know what? Maybe I should not name my bank on the Internet. But I'll just say that it's not like a Chase or a Citibank, meaning it's hard to find. But according to the Internet, there was a branch located on "Conklin Street," which I discovered yesterday. Of course, yesterday I was tired and moody and the weather was gray and foreboding, so I decided not to mess around with trying to find this "Conklin Street," choosing the safety of my tiny microwaved lunch at my desk because I'm new and have no friends and even if I become friends with the people in my department, we have different lunchtimes awww.

I justified my passivity by assuring myself that since I don't have to work until ten on Fridays, I would get up early and go to the bank before work. HA! Seriously, I don't know how I keep convincing myself of such complete and utter ridiculousness!

What saved me from being guilt-ridden at my failure to accomplish such a small task as depositing a paycheck after I inevitably absolutely do not wake up "early" on Friday was, excitingly enough, thanks to heavy traffic this morning. It was just sitting there, the traffic, for no discernible reason, and it was pissing me off.

That is when I realized about the train tracks. There was a train passing, so people couldn't, you know, cross the tracks while that was happening.

So but I also happened to see in my travels that there happened to be a "Conklin Street" right there in front of my eyes! Not only that, but it started right there, so there was only one way I could go!

It seemed pretty foolproof, even for me. And I had delicious wine last night (the Yellow Tail shiraz-grenache is lovely), and didn't eat much or drink beer, so I lost three pounds! And the sun was out, and normally I'm not a fan, but after all of the grayness of the week, I was ready for it. Also I'm sad about something that I won't get into right now, and I felt like going out and being a responsible citizen would make me feel accomplished. I mean, I'd even worn a jacket today! Normally that doesn't happen till at least halfway through December.

Responsible! So I start driving, and the first thing that mocked my positivity was the following exchange in my brain:

"I made the right choice; it's sunny and nice and I can get away from the office and listen to some music."

"Yeah, I'm definitely not feeling 1010 WINS right now."

"My iPod is totally what I need right now."

"My iPod is on my desk back at work."

SIGH.

So the radio was on my nerves with its unimaginative Christmas songs, and ubiquitous Rob Thomas, and Z100 being crappy and making me mad at the youth of America for liking such shitty music. So I listened to Jay-Z on Hot 97, who sometimes is good, but sometimes just sounds like he's drunk at four in the morning and keeps forgetting that he's already told you a hundred times how much money he has, and like, you don't care to begin with. Seriously, Jay-Z -- enunciation is your friend!

Meanwhile, the clock is ticking (not literally, that would really get to me), and I only get 45 minutes for lunch. So I'm like, well that's sad to drive all the way down Conklin Street for nothing. But THEN I get distracted by the next song, 'cause it sounds like some rapper is all really enthusiastic about wanting ice cream, and I'm thinking, well that's nice that he is extolling youthful joys, until I realize he's singing about going down on a woman and like ENOUGH with those songs, they are seriously gross and unnecessary. And stop referring to my vagina as a "peach." In my opinion, there is no bigger sign that a person is terrible in bed than their talking about it every ding-dong second of the day. You know?

ANYWAY. So I'm getting filled with indignation at the song and I decide that I really need to go back to work now. No check, no ATM card. Just a terrible "song" apparently called "Peaches and Cream." Bad day.

But THEN lo and behold, as I make an ill-advised three-point turn in a single-lane, solid-double-yellow-lined street, I realize, I am totally blocking this dude trying to get out of the parking lot. I try to give him a thank-you wave™Seinfeld, but sort of just hit myself in the face instead, because I am very distracted.

The man was leaving my bank.

There it was! I didn't recognize it, all fancy and old-fashioned. But of course, I had passed the entrance. Throwing all caution and better judgment to the wind, I make a right turn. Might not seem like such a big deal but not only am I me, but I've lived in Levittown. Making a right turn can lead to a hypnotizing night of getting lost and distracted by all the cute and funny street names.

But so I make a right, and WHOA! "(Judi's Bank) Walk-Up and Drive-Thru." On a sign! With an arrow. I drove in and parked, very, VERY proud of myself. I was even going to go ahead and get an ATM card!

No I wasn't. But I couldn't anyway, because this weird little place didn't have any doors! Not for the public, anyway. It was like a McDonald's Express, only a bank! Fascinating. I sort of just stand there like a dolt, not knowing what to do. There is a lady talking to a chick in a sweatshirt about Binghamton, and this chick is bumming me out, 'cause she is talking about how she would totally "have went" to Binghamton, but she's an Education Major, and they don't have that, or she would "have went." But she loves Hofstra. I don't think this chick and I could hang.

Anyway, then I deposit my check, and it feels like when you buy 40s at the sketchy gas station 'cause no one else will sell them after 2 a.m. on Saturday/Sunday.

How weird and cute and charming, this tiny little kiosk bank! I think as I go back to my car. Too bad I can't get an ATM card there due to the "limited services available." Oh well.

And then I look up, and I see...a bank. My bank. My grownup, full-sized bank.

I--what--HUH???

Ohhhhhhh.

That explained so much! How the bank had followed me onto the other street, for example. And how it had changed in size. And how it was no longer facing the busy street where I found it to begin with.

Mystery? Solved.

Check? Deposited.

ATM card? Still don't have one, but I got to stay guilt-free about it for another day.

And though I still didn't have my iPod, the radio remained mercifully cunnilingus-free on my trip home. All in all, meaning that today was a good day after all.

(You see what I did there?)




©2007