Friends,
I went to a local branch of Stinko’s bank this afternoon to deposit a payment for services. My colleague at the Far Eastern Outpost of San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization wanted some framing materials and the local purveyors of framey bits wanted a dishonest fortune. Double what the CEO of Chicago, Illinois’ very own Bell Studio was asking. Why? Who knows, but they lost the sale nonetheless.
The check was cut, I got the account number, and sidled up to the teller window. “This number is too long,” the teller worried. “Oh, it’s an account in Chicago, their numbers are longer. It’s for my brother’s business.” Because they absorbed some other bank and kept the numbering system there, I guess. I’ve been through this before and could look like some sort of financial industry genius offering the information without the details.
“I see it,” as she scanned her screen and read the results, “Bell Studio, Paul …” She decided not to struggle with our very foreign last name, but I offered the pronunciation anyway. “TERIO” “Um, sure, whatever.” Then a pause.
“Oh right. You’re the brother. I guess you’d know.”
Yes. I think I might.
– bob