I am waiting.


I am waiting for a long time.


And this is no surprise. I am at the bank.


That bank.


The bank officially charged for being involved with terrorism.


And me. I am nervous. By sitting in this lobby I am probably making myself unable to travel into any country ever again. Which is frustrating.


Because finally I can! I have the power! Beauty and I have just returned from our big holiday to Spain, and I am excited. Because I have a plan! I am going to become a financial beast.


A man arrives and gestures for me to walk over to a booth with him. He is podgy and not white. I smile. We have something in common. This man will help me achieve my goals. I am going to become a financial beast.


A complete maniac.


I will escape my once-Canada-fuelling-but-now-has-emphysema overdraft and leave my disease ridden get-em-while-they’re-in-school-and-can’t-escape bank and head for their ethical rivals to join my newlywife in her moral money ways. Where I will make money. Och! So much money! I’m gonna make so much money I’ll wish I didn’t make so much money! Then I’ll turn it all into papier-monéy and make tracey islands that are legal tender. Loads of them!




They’ll have to redesign wallets to fit in tracey islands! And I’ll get the patent on them! And then I’ll make more money!


And this man is the key. I smile, and wonder how he changed genders since being irritating in Buffy, as I sit down across from him in a booth far too small for personal space.


“So, what can I do for you today?”


“Well. I’d like some more savings accounts please.”


“Right. Some more? How many more?”


“Seven.” I answer, sitting back in my seat with a smile. Such a genius. It is through splitting my finances into numerous named budgets in little tubs from Home Bargains that I managed to save enough to pay a good chunk towards getting married. And to pay off all the annual car fees in the same month. And to then go on holiday to Spain. I have mastered money. Now I just need to turn my Tupperware into actual bank accounts, and I can save like I am the Terminator.


I have noticed how rarely the Terminator impulses purchases, and so should you.


The man tilts his head slightly, and squirms.


“Is that alright?” I ask. Obviously it’s alright. I’m trying to diligently steward money. They are a bank. We clearly have the same goals.


“Well… yes. But…”


The man sighs and doesn’t really finish his sentence. He clicks around on his computer for a while and doesn’t really speak up much.


“I just…. why don’t you just have like two or three savings accounts and merge them?”


I stare at him.


“Because that isn’t defined enough! You want a holiday and a guitar and when you’ve got enough for one you’ll buy it and have nothing for the other!”


The man sighs again, before telling me to wait again. He has to speak to a colleague.




It is 45 minutes later, and the man comes back with some pieces of paper. He has agreed to give me seven more accounts if I sign seven somethings. He thinks I’m an idiot.


A complete maniac.


I am annoyed, but pleased. I escaped with the savings accounts, and have spent months saving better than ever before! This is amazing! I suddenly have lots of small but consistently growing savings!


Which gives me an idea.




I am waiting.


I am not waiting for a long time.


A slim, attractive woman sits in the next chair along and asks me what I want.


“Well. I want, like… a million savings accounts!”


She stares at me.


And I am ready for the fight. And the squirming.


“OK. Well, did you know you can open them online from home?”


Oh. Erm.


“No? How?” I ask. She leads me to a computer screen and shows me how. I smile.


“So, do you think I’m weird then for this?”


“It is unusual.” she answers, diplomatically.


“Well, let me ask then. Are you saving at all?”


“Yeah, I’m saving.”


“For what if you don’t mind me asking?”


“Well, you know. Rainy day.”


“Right. Do you drive?”




“So what about all the tax and MOT etc every year?”


“Well I just pay it out of that month’s wage.”


“Right, so you just have a crisis once a year.”


“…..Erm. Yeah.”


“So… wouldn’t it be better to save each month and never have a crisis?”


She pauses.


“You’ve got me thinking now.”


I smile.


Hang on.


This woman works at the bank.


And I’m teaching her how to save!


I’m a financial advisor!


I go home and tell Beauty that I’m a financial beast.


“I have the power!”


She smiles, and changes the subject.






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