I pull up to the ATM machine at the PNC on Clifton Blvd. and find a debit card and receipt already sticking out of the machine. I look ahead a see a car pulling off. I beep, but the car is gone. I take the debit card and receipt from the machine, insert my own and transact, then I back the Blue Vibe into a spot.
I stroll into the bank and I am instantly ordered to remove my sunglasses but some guy in a suit. A security guard is, also, several feet away, inspecting me. I have not taken two steps into the bank before this insult.
I comply and wind myself through the empty Temple Grandin lane to wait for a teller.
"May I help you?" she asks.
"I found this in the ATM machine outside," I say, loudly, like my beloved Temple.
I hand her the debit card and receipt through the slot, and she thanks me.
I walk away, back past the security guard and the other suit who ordered my sunglasses off.
"Thank you," he says.
"Save it, brother," I say as I put my sunglasses back on. "Everyone's a suspect, right?"
I push through the door, and leave them all to ponder the moment in silence. Amen.
