Welcome to zoo of America, may I feed your animal today?

Today's winning deposit was a parakeet.


I've had it! I draw the line of people bringing in their stupid pets when a man's bird decides to clickity-clack across my keyboard with it's little claws and disease infested feathers.

The owner walked into the bank already looking suspicious. He wore a large tan trench coat, sunglasses, and a hat. I got a little worried seeing him in line. He looked like he could have been a robber... or a flasher!...except I could see the pantlegs. As he walked up to my window he took his hand out of his pocket. Instead of a gun he pulled out his parakeet. He layed it on the counter and the bird started walking closer to me and then walked over my keyboard. It took everything in me to put my hand near it and have him walk onto my finger.
"Here! Take your bird!" I said trying not to sound too disgusted. I then found out the man wasn't even our customer and he only had some vague questions about IRAs.

I feel like our bank is a pet store sometimes. There are a few dogs I don't mind that come in. They are small and quiet. Still, our money is dirty enough we don't need animals. I have seen people bring in a tiny monkey, a ferret, a rat, and now a bird.

Please! this is not a zoo. Leave the wildlife where it belongs.

I am not an animal hater. I like watching those nature channels and I don't want them to die, but please don't make me touch it. I don't know why animals freaks me out but they do.

As soon as creepy flasher bird man left you can be sure the lysol and anti-bacterial were soon brought out.

Please. Leave your animals at home.

Tearing Away Toronto

My mind can't seem to accept the fact I'll be back at the bank tomorrow.
Sorry my tales have not been on the more humorous side as of late, but in between my laughter comes insights into reality.

I think I have officially fallen in love with Toronto. What contrast I feel from my first week. I'm still the small town girl, but this big city has given me such a big hug. All this is due to the people I have met.
My second and last weekend of class deepend my friendships, I actually met the mayor of Toronto and he gave me a few pointers on how to move here. I went to see The Hour and talked with George Stromboulopoulos and he set me up to meet with the head writers of the show. They were so friendly and gave me advice on where to take the next steps to possibly work there with them.
Hanging out with Deb and her friends: I never once felt like they were just her friends. I can't recall one negative encounter with a person. I know I am lucky and this has been only two weeks, but my heart wants to come back here so badly. In the arts and entertainment world here there doesn't seem to be that race to be celebrity.
I worry for L.A, but if I keep my eyes set on coming back here and working I know that L.A will provide some of the experience I need to make a good resume.
I know some of what I did here is considered "networking". I don't like that word though. It has such a self-driven conotation to it. I like to think of these people I met as friends. We're all a family in the art world and are trying to continue to dig deeper into the art.
It's naive and hopeful, but I'll hang on to that as long as I can.
Cheers.

Day One/ Week One

Day One
17 Jan 2008

This is how I know my life is a comedy:
I made it Toronto safely. My flight early and my bags intact.
Today I got settled into my little furnished apartment that's really a room, kitchen, and bathroom on the third floor of someone's house.
As Deb and I followed the directions given to me by "landlady" we walked the cold streets of Toronto. I tried to keep an eye on all buildings so I could remember landmarks to help me find my way around when I was on my own.
As we got closer to the address I noticed flags hanging from windows and shops. The Canandian flag? I think not. Think more colorful.
The gay pride flag.
Deb started laughing "I think your apartment is in the gay neighborhood".
Yes my friends. It is.
If I didn't already start to feel like a small town girl in a big city and waaaayyyy out of place I sure did now.

The lady who owns the house is very nice and the third floor is pretty seperate from the rest of the house. I am reminded of my housemates when the kids come home though.
While putting away my tioletries I noticed there was a big window across from the shower....and no curtain. Not even frosted glass. Looks like I'll be giving free shows if I don't find something to put up quick!

I went down to see the Second City training center. I felt like such and awkward 13 year old. "Uh hi! I was wondering where the training center is (I was at their main stage). I just flew in from Washington! I'm all turned around. I'm so excited for class. I just wanted to find where it was now so I don't get lost tomorrow." All this said in one stream and one breath. The guys at the desk gave me an interesting look and told me where the training center was. Deb made some funny quick remark to the guys to account for my 13-year-oldness.

ugh. Day one. It's a funny thing to be in a big city and feel completely alone.
I have Deb, but I still feel really out of place.
Things will get better I know. I'm just observing my feelings as of day one.
cheers.

Week One
Tiny Fish; Big Ocean.

At first I thought it would be a culture shock to be living in a big city, but as the days have passed and the classes have finished for the first weekend I've had time to think things through.

My classes at Second City have been going well. A lot is review but since most of the fundamentals have not come second nature to me I am grateful for the repetition.

I get in to see the Second City shows for a good discount (some free student shows) so I'm attending all that I can. I saw my first mainstage show Sunday. They are an amazing group.

My thoughts as I headed to the subway afterwards were things I had figured I might think and feel. But no amount of reading and journaling could really prepare my heart for the realization of just how far I have to go if I am to "make it".
It seems funny to me that even though I've been preparing myself for this big ocean/tiny fish feeling it didn't really hit home until I took the first step.

I thank you soooo much for all of your support. I realize just how important that is to hang on to to keep going.

I know I have a long way to go and will have to work really hard. It's just an interesting experience to see the knowledge/realization go from my head down to my heart.

cheers.
-J

Straw is cheaper, grass is free

Today's winner of my observation was a tall gentleman. The first thing he said to me, as he loomed high above, was: "How do I get someone off of my account? My wife and I hate eachother and we're getting a divorce". Before I could set out my "Doctor is 'in' " sign I noticed a gathering of spit/drool at the corners of his mouth. I just stared. He talked in a mouth full of marbles way and with the help of some crazy physics the spit just stayed in the cracks. I was worried that gravity would take over and it would spill over. Him being so tall and me so short just had to add up to a gross outcome. But, alas, it did not. There had to have been a slight pause before I could answer him. I just stared at this cluster. You know how someone has that little piece of spit or some kind of white thing that clings from one lip to another? It keeps going from top lip to bottom lip to top lip. And all you can think is "please lick your lips, that "spittle" is REALLY distracting." Ya, it was kinda like that.

I get distracted pretty easily. Like if someone has a lazy eye. I feel so bad because I don't know which one to look into. Or if they have a little something hanging out of their nose. Or food stuck to the side of their mouth. I practically have to make them repeat themselves 3 times so I can hear all that they are saying.

There's this guy that comes into the bank and I swear he bought his toupee from a barn. There is no way it's real hair. I dread him coming to my window because I just know I'll be looking at his hair line where you can see the matting of his hay hair. You can actually see the piece sitting on his head. It looks like someone did needle point with straw. It's just awful. Not to mention how awkward I feel when he makes "funny" comments. They aren't funny and he has this forced nervous laughter that makes me nervous in return.

I can't help but be honest in my observations. I have no doubt in my mind that I have ordered many a hamburger with something hanging out my nose or big piece of dandruff chillin in my hair or ketchup on my cheek. We're all human.

And that's why life is so darn funny.

Desperate to be Desperate

Today and yesterday were whoppers of days for crazy customers. This week has been pretty interesting to say the least. Since this week has held the end of the month paychecks, first of the month paychecks, social security checks, and holidy expenses needing to be paid I have seen a wide variety of stressed smelly crazy people.


Funny thing, I actually like the "crazy" ones more than the "normal" ones.

Yesterday, while working the drive up, I got yelled at by an antsy lady. "BEEP!" the teller call button blared in my ear. I'm finishing up with the other customer I had with a really big transaction to do and a bunch of little ones. I press the button to tell the beeping customer to wait just a minute. I'll be with her in just a minute. Before I could even say anything she said "Excuse me, are you going to help me?!" I had already greeted her and said I would be with her in a moment about 3 minutes ago. I thought she was aware of the two cars that were at the drive up before her. "I'll be with you in just a second. I'm finishing up with another customer-" "well I have somewher I need to be! This is taking forever!" My patience at that point in the day had run out. So my reply back was a sweet as I could make it. Trying so hard not to sound too sarcastic. "I see here that you have 5 checks you want me to cash for you. Seeing as we have a 2 transaction limit I was going to do you a favor and cash this for you. But first I'm finishing up cashing the 5 checks my other customer sent up to me". I'm pretty sure she called me a bitch but I had hit the "off" button before I could here it in my ear piece.



She's a good example of the "I'm fighting off my age by trying to dress hip and high light my hair and study desperate house wives to be a totally bad ass hot mom, with my beautiful orange tan, and I'm even wearing these ridiculously huge sunglasses despite the fact that I live in the Pacific Northwest but I'm just too good for this small town po-dunkery" kind of lady. I get them all the time. Mostly through the drive up. Usually on their cell phone. I have actually been "shushed"!!! They have even rolled up their window when I ask if I'm making a deposit for them. They wave me a way, glare at me, or completely ignore me!

I'm not a freaking ATM.

It's been a long week. This is only one instance. I have too many stories to write here. You would deffinately not feel like reading it all. So I'll keep plunking down these stories little by little.

I'm just glad you like them. Life is funny. We just need to see it that way.
Cheers.

Sole Brotha

So I have to tell you this!

It's the last half hour of work and this fella comes in. He's scruffy and has a freshly stamped out cigarette in his hand. As he stands in line I know he'll be my next customer. I just know it. He's about to step up to my window...but wait!....he raises his foot practically to his head. And there it is. His foot. Bare. Dirty - black almost....like his scruffy hair. "Look! No shoes!" he shouts. He walks his way up to my window. "Don't wear shoes. Don't like 'em. My ma tried to make me wear 'em when I was a kid. Hated it. No shoes on me!"
I really would have liked to chat with him, but his stale cigarette breath and stinky hair made my eyes water. It was worse than an onion effect. I tried looking away. Turning around. Fresh air! Anywhere! Anyone?!
Finally he left my window after getting a balance. Something he could have done from the ATM.
He left, the smell stayed, and the story is all that remains of this sole brotha.

More Terrifying Tales of a Teller

Today's theme for Teller Tales: Clorox and Kermit

There is this lady that comes into the bank usually at about 5:50pm. Not often, but at least a few times a month. She is a sweet older lady. Her back is hunched some and her hands crippled with arthritis. The only thing I do not look forward to about her visits is this: She tends to heave a heavy sigh after each sentance. I don't know how or why she does this but somehow as she sighs she curls her lips in a fashion that directs her deadly breath right into my face. I try so hard not to breath in. Coming up with clever ways to look away and breath in. But with out fail I get a few puffs in.

Thank goodness she's not like the people that come up to my window and hack, cough and sneeze in my face. "doh, I'm sorry. I have a sduffy dose. I wend do da doctor's but he said to just take id easy." Really? did he tell you to stay away from the healthy public? That would be some good advice too.

Now with the cold/flu season in full force I go through a can of lysol a week. Those Clorox wipes are attached to my hip. One sheet a customer. My usual statement after a "sicky" leaves is "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to keep you healthy. Please wait while this window is being sanitized."

One of my more entertaining customers is "Phil". He has the most high pitched voice I've ever heard. Ok, it's not high pitch.... just piercing. While snotting all over at my window and refusing to take a kleenex he tells me of his girlfriends and how one of his girlfriends got mad at him for "touching her boobies". He talks of the beers he drinks at Applebees, how the girls he makes love to are just desperate, and asks if us girls would like to have his babies. Let me explain. This man is "not all there". He is somewhat mentally handicapped. This makes the line for things being said and possibly crossing the line a little fuzzy. I don't think he's aware of socially inapropriate things. But what the funny thing is is that his voice carries through out the whole banking center. It's almost a Kermit the frog voice. But not quite. Another one of our customers sounds EXACTLY like Kermit. So "Phil" only sounds LIKE Kermit.

You know what else I notice? How much people talk about the weather. I am SOOOO guilty of this. But if you had to talk to strangers all day and not get too involved and have only about 3 min with them what else are you going to talk about? Whatever the weather is - no one is happy. Some people want it to snow, some don't. A lot of people seem to be amazed at the amount of rain we get, they can't believe that it never stops. They are annoyed. I assume they have just moved here. No. They've lived here their whole life. My only suggestion: Move.

Perhaps next to my Kleenex, Clorox, and Lysol I should carry extra umbrellas.

Cheers.