Tuesday, May 5, 2020
MY SUNDANCE KID MOMENT
I needed cash.
Fistfuls of it.
We saddled up and headed to the bank - well - credit union.
Clouds gathered as we sauntered along.
At the great glass door, we paused.
"You comin' in?"
"Good. Keepin' an eye out?"
"Nope. Social distancing."
A red bandana draped around my neck.
I pulled the cravat over the bridge of my nose and entered.
Thunder clapped as the door cracked open.
A sudden downpour chorused behind me.
Glancing this way, then that, I advanced on the teller.
I slipped my debit card from its holster and slid it across the counter.
"Cash," I snarled. "Twenties."
Her eyes met mine.
She knew I meant business.
In a twinkling, a wad of (5) twenty dollar bills lay in front of me.
The teller thanked me...
...and called me by name.
So much for the mask, I thought.
Exiting, I found my partner drenched.
"What in the heck happened to you?"
"Raindrops," she said, "fallin' on my head."
As we sauntered home, I wondered:
Would that teller have been so cordial to Butch or Sundance?
Church of the Open Road Press