Then tonight I got a call from Tim, who has his work crew down in Southern California installing a job. Actually, the first call was from the bank, wanting to know if it was okay to cash the men's paychecks. I said that would be all right, but the bank manager who called had to determine if I was who I said I was before he'd take my word.
He asked for my social security number and before I could say "no way," he pulled that request and started asking obscure questions about the account. The amount of our last deposit was easy, but when he asked if I knew at what branch we'd initially opened the account, I had to go back ten years to another bank entirely, one that was later swallowed up by the megabank we use now.
He was sufficiently impressed when I came up with all this trivia, but a few minutes later Tim called and said the guy wouldn't cash the checks after all because none of the men had picture IDs with them. That threw me for a minute. I mean, what if they get stopped by the Homeland Security forces? We're in a yellow ("heightened") state of alert right now, after all.
Most of them are under 21, so they probably had fake IDs, but nothing the bank could use. So Tim cashed a check himself (he's 38) and gave them the money, but it overdrew his account. He'd like me to make a deposit for him tomorrow to cover it, which I agreed to do.
"You're still at Large Bank with Branches Everywhere, right?"
"No, I got mad at them and moved to Small Bank with No Branches Near You."
Well, good for you for supporting community banking, but I'm not driving to Lodi or Gilroy or Calcutta (or wherever, probably not Calcutta, though) to keep you from getting an overdraft fee.
I was going to end this by saying that Tim called and told me he'd handled the banking problem himself. That was what was supposed to happen, but I'm still waiting for that call.