Saturday, 8 December 2012

Fantastical Fancies at the ATM

Need cash, always need cash. 

There’s a bank, cue a queue; there’s always a queue. The Forager joins, I defend the kit. Yet the line doesn’t move, people join and then leave. The Forager is still at the back. 

Eventually she gains entry to the booth and I lose sight of her. She returns with a tale: there was a policeman inside, standing right by the dispenser. He appeared to be entering numbers. The Forager's concern was, how could she politely dispose of him before starting a transaction?  Finally, the line of penitents is depleted and the officer leaves. The Forager is left confused and on her own.

What was going on? Have they just been sprung from the cells and are paying their overnight dues and court fines? The queue never increasing because the innocent didn’t want to be contaminated by association? Or have I just conjured up a fantastical fancy, a ridiculous scenario?