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I need a new bank. I’ve needed a new bank for a while. I haven’t switched because my bank bought all of the companies that had given me credit cards. Now they own all my debt and I’ve sort of just given up. Also, I’ve had this bank account since before I went to college. I might have opened it up back in high school to deposit money I’d made from scalping Super Bowl tickets to my chemistry teacher. It is one of the few numbers I actually have memorized. Seems like a pain to have to remember a new set of bank account numbers.

But, this might have been the final straw that actually makes me change. You see, my grandfather on my father’s side was named Clyde. So, right there, cool name equals cool grandpa. Clyde used to take his dog Shag with him pretty much everywhere he went including the bank.

Well, now I’ve got a dog and he likes to go with me to the bank. I’ve refrained from switching to direct deposit just so I can take Marshal to the bank with me. We always go to the teller window connected to the bank building itself. The tellers always ask what kind of dog Marshal is and compliment him for being handsome and well-behaved. Then they send over a treat to Marshal in the form of a dog biscuit or quite often two biscuits. Marshal loves going to the bank. He also loves going to Walgreen’s because he gets the same treatment there.

Well, I’ve been busy and I’ve been a bad dog dad. I’ve been depositing my checks through an iPhone App. Convenient for me but bad for the dog. Well, Saturday, Marshal and I went to the bank. I figured I owed him. We got there and he was extremely excited. Panting, looking out the window for the teller, and . . .

IMG_0856My bank has sealed up the teller window and put in an ATM. They completely bricked over the side of the building. No teller. No treat. Marshal looked around to figure out what had happened, but to no avail.

IMG_0857He was crestfallen. The above photos are actually taken while we were in line at Whataburger. I felt so bad about him missing out on the bank, we swung by for a burger and fries. The above pictures are an approximation of how he looked at the bank, only a hundred times sadder.  It’s like when Oscar Reijlander and Charles Darwin got together to photograph animal and human facial expressions when expressing emotion.

So, damn you Bank of America, you made my dog sad. I’m shocked. He was shocked, this peacock was shocked. Maybe not shocked, but when I told him the news, the peacock just got disgusted and left.

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It’s all so sad. On an unrelated note, the chemistry professor that bought my scalped tickets later had to leave the school because he had an affair with a sixteen year old student.



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