Remember the hot girl that occasionally comes to the drive thru? She came by today. Afterward, when my fellow tellers were explaining to the customer service folks who she was, something bizarre happened.
We pulled up her account so that Monica's memory could be jogged. Turns out, hot girl needed to receive a phone call regarding her account. I'll spare you the details, but it was suggested that I be the one to call her.
I knew there was no way I could do that. I knew that, as a teller, it was well within my job description to call the client. But the thing is, I have a hard time talking to her when she comes to the window. I can barely get the words "have a nice day" out of my mouth without tripping over my tongue. So Monica volunteered to call her.
And hot girl is coming into the bank tomorrow. At which point Monica claims that she'll be able to find out anything I want to know about her. Does she have a boyfriend? What sort of movies does she like? What's her favorite type of flower? Does she like Star Wars?
I have a hard time believing that Monica will be able to work movie preferences into a conversation about her banking needs...
Monica: Well it looks like your account is in pretty good standing. So what do you think of the movie Back to the Future?
Hot Girl: What does that have anything to do with my account?
Monica: Oh, it's just a standard random question that the computer spit out. I don't make up the surveys.
Hot Girl: In that case, Back to the Future is the most awesome movie ever made.
Monica: I see, and do you know that the guy at the drive-thru lane exists?
Hot Girl: There's a guy over there? All this time I've thought it was some disembodied voice and a drawer that just magically spit out my receipts. That's crazy!
And they lived happily ever after. The end.