It’s good to have a plan

At the Bank of No Forks we have a security guard. We have often thought that it is ridiculous, the amount of security we have. You have to have a special swipey badge to get into the building and again to the private side of the building where we all have our offices. Customers are never allowed into the private side – ahem, Ava – so that’s why Jojo the Tiny Kitty can come to work with me everyday. Customers never even know he’s back here.

I guess we really shouldn’t be complaining about the level of security. At least BofNF wants us to be safe, right? Probably what they want is not to get sued. **eye roll**

We do get some “special” people here, but usually we’re mentally prepared for them because we work by appointment only, and we’ve already talked to them on the phone so we have a pretty good idea that they’re nuts. Sometimes customers are just really angry – usually at BofNF not us personally – and we’re quite good at talking them down off the ledge. I have an excellent track record of making my customers laugh by the end of our appointment.

We still joke around about snipers in the parking lot though. It’s the same sort of dark humor police officers have. And those guys at the morgue. It keeps us sane.

Today our receptionist was relating a story where a customer took  his anger out on her, calling her a really awful name. Really awful. A totally uncalled for expletive. She expressed concern that he’d show up in the parking lot someday. We pointed out that we have a security guard. Nothing against our security guards – our current one is really great and we really like him. So does Jojo. However, the guards are not armed with anything more powerful than their cell phones. We wonder how things would go down if there ever was an incident.

But then it occurred to me. If the sniper shows up and starts taking us out, I’m going to scream out, “Go for my legs!” I’m certain I’d never have to work again after that law suit.

The way I look at it, I don’t need my legs. I hardly use them anyway. Then I could wear all the cute shoes in the world and never have to worry about them pinching my toes.

Not a service panda, but holy crap, look at how cute!

I would immediately try to convince My Honey that I need a Service Panda. Don’t you think a panda bear would look really cute with one of those little, green vests? **A quick little aside. I Googled Service Panda and nothing came up. What do you think that means? It means I’m a trailblazer, people. Visionary.**

Even better, I can get pushed right to the front of the line at Disneyland.

Service Pony! You know they make little shoes for those ponies so they don’t slip in the mall. What kind of service animal do you want? The sky’s the limit. Service Platypus? Pygmy Hippopotamus?