She came in a few days later. I was in the back of the teller area, giving an override or spinning on a chair, or something equally important. I hear her voice ask for a notary and I start jumping up and down like an excited golden retriever. One of the tellers told her to take a seat and I would be right with her. I came out of the side door before she had a chance to take a seat and said "Hey, Sheri! Did you need a notary?"
She got a fearful look in her eyes. I thought maybe instead of offering my notary services she thought I said "I'm going to chop off your mullet then chip away at your collar bone with a machete". She said "How do you know my name?"
By this time we had made it over to my desk and I gave her a sweet banking/saleswoman/american idol future winner smile and said "Because I notarized for you before, remember?"
She starts laughing and I think she is laughing at her silliness, forgetting such a memorable girl.
I was wrong.
She said "So, they got to you too. They are really playing with me, REALLY playing with me now".
I said "No, you already told me your story. I notarized stuff and sent it to George W. Bush for you, remember? I faxed our President....for you...no?"
She shouted at me , "I don't even know you!"
Then she whipped out a notebook, wrote my first and last name, looked at me as though she was taking a picture of me in her head, then walked off.
On the way out the door her neck snapped around like a kimodo dragon and she roared at one of the tellers, "What are YOU looking at?" Then mumbled "nevermind" and left.
I hope by writing this blog, 4 years later, that she doesn't think I am part of the suicide game. Because I know fo sho that making "chili, cookies and etc doesn't mean I'm baptist or part of the Cia. Peace"
