Every week I go into PNC to deposit checks and inquire about the status of the loan I requested to build a catapult that can hurl a turnip over seventy yards. The problem is that every week the bank teller attempts to engage in small talk with me, and every week I panic and lie for no reason at all other than that I’m not very good at holding conversations that aren’t about the terminal velocity of a turnip. Here is how our last few conversations went.

Tuesday

TELLER: Hi, I’m Tara. How can I help you?

ME: I need to deposit these checks.

TELLER: No problem. Have you been watching March Madness?

ME: No, I can’t really watch basketball.

TELLER: That’s too bad, do you not have cable?

ME: No, I have PTSD.

TELLER: What?

ME: I was a professional level point guard and broke my sternum during a game. It was pretty traumatizing so now I can’t watch it.

*1 minute silence*

TELLER: *Looks at checks* Oh, I’m from Dublin, Ohio too!

ME: I’m from Dublin, Ireland.

TELLER: You don’t have an accent.

ME: I am from an American neighborhood there called “Little Cleveland.”

TELLER: Your checks say Dublin, Ohio.

ME: That’s a typo.

TELLER: Do you have plans for summer break?

ME: I’m opening a Borders Book Store with my biological father.

TELLER: I thought those weren’t around anymore.

ME: That’s why we are opening one.

TELLER: Ok, well, do you want any cash back from these checks?

ME: Yes, $40 please.

TELLER: Would you like that in twenties or small bills?

ME: Nickels.

TELLER: Nickels?

ME: …Nickels.

TELLER: Um, ok. Can I ask why?

ME: So I can trade them for cash at the change machine at Kroger.

TELLER: But I can give you cash here.

ME: Uh…yeah I guess…but I have to go there anyway to pick up my…Rogaine.

TELLER: Jesus. Ok, have a nice day.

Friday

ME: Hi, I need to order more checks. Usually I talk to Tara, but I guess she’s not here.

TELLER: Yeah, Tara quit like three days ago. She said something about being tired of dealing with weirdos. I can help you though.

ME: Great, thanks.

TELLER: How many checks do you need?

ME: 100.

TELLER: Ok, let me just pull up your account. I like your sweater.

ME: Thank you, it is actually an American Girl Doll sweater that I stretched out to fit a real human.

TELLER: That doesn’t seem possible.

ME: That’s what my tailor said, but I proved him wrong.

TELLER: Um…ok. So how are your classes going?

ME: Pretty good. I’ve had to grade a lot of exams lately.

TELLER: Oh, so you’re a TA?

ME: I’m a professor. A tenured professor.

TELLER: Wow, you look very young for a professor. What do you teach?

ME: …Chemistry.

TELLER: Really? I’m actually in chemistry right now. Can I ask you a question about it?

ME: I like to keep work separate from my private life…I’m…uh…building a turnip catapult; wouldn’t you rather hear about that?

TELLER: Please, I have an exam tomorrow and this is your area of expertise.

ME: Yes, ok then.

TELLER: How do I set up an ICE table?

ME: Right, yes. ICE tables. First, find a good slab of ice. Make sure it is in an environment where it won’t melt, like a tundra or the freezer section of Costco, then—

TELLER: I meant like ICE tables for calculations. Or is there some kind of formula I can use?

ME: My guess would be Pythagorean Theorem. No, no, no, don’t google that. Scientists are still debating all of this, so you will probably get a different answer than what I told you. If you get questions from your professor, just say that I told you how to do ICE tables and they should give you credit.

TELLER: Ok, what is your name again so I can tell them?

ME: Esmerelda Penumbra.

TELLER: Your account is under Janie Beaufore.

ME: Esmerelda Penumbra is my stage name. Teaching is like a performance. So, about those checks?

TELLER: I ordered them.

ME: Have you heard anything about the status of the turnip catapult loan?

TELLER: Please ask for Brian next time you are here.

-Janie Beaufore, Contributor