Call me Uncle Moneybags

I had a scary experience at work today. (I just started as a teller at a local bank) The nice thing about living in a small town with a church on every other corner is that more people are honest. I found that out today.

I had unclipped a stack of 25 fifty-dollar bills and counted out a few for the customer in the drive-in lane. After I gave him the cash, he counted it and told me it wasn't all there. Oh yeah, I realized, I'd counted out a seperate stack of twenties and forgot to put them in the little paper slip. I grabbed the stack in front of me, gave the guy his cash and sent him on his merry way.

But he returned about 2 minutes later. "Umm, I think you gave me a little extra," he said. The girl next to him chimed in sweetly, "Yeah, like $300 extra!"

My jaw dropped, yet I managed to grab my heart before it leaped completely out of my throat; simultaneously I pinched my lower cheeks to avoid a major accident. As I composed myself physically, I was trying to avoid the mental image of the inevitable firing that I just had just been rescued from.

For the third time, I gave the guy his money, thanking him profusely for being honest.

I don't think I looked up from my computer for at least 10 minutes. Not bad for my seventh day of work.