The Bank Teller

I had a funny dream last night. I was at the bank, waiting to cash a check, and one of the tellers, a man about my age, made a snappy comment about me. I don't recall what he said. Unfortunately, my recall of dreams has always been spotty at best. The minute I wake up, about 75% of the details are gone, leaving only the skeleton. At any rate, the teller had a mustache and unkempt hair with cowlicks going in every direction. I thought that was odd, as bank tellers tend to be neat and conservative in their appearance as a rule. He made a snappy remark, and I retorted with something like, "Why don't you comb your hair?" and the other bank tellers laughed at him. He made no reply. Then I went over to the little table set aside for customers to sign checks, and I signed a check that someone had written to me for $500. I did not recognize the signature, but it was someone from New York, judging by the address in the top left corner. I went to the same cashier, let's call him Mr. Clown, and he performed his job in a professional manner without making any further remark.

I started having a bad feeling about the check, because I did not know where it came from. Was it a forgery of some kind? Since I didn't have any recall of the check's origin, I decided that it must indeed be fraudulent. I told Mr. Clown to give me the check back, that I had changed my mind about cashing it. He smiled and said I had made the right decision, because he had doubts about the check's authenticity as well. I took out one of my own personal checks and wrote myself a check for $500, withdrawing from my own account.

That was the end of the dream. The only basis the dream has in reality is that I recently withdrew $500 from my checking account--via the ATM, not a personal check. I have not been inside my bank in several months and have never had anything but a pleasant experience with bank tellers. However, I have had an increased rate of forgetfulness due to adopting a new schedule with many new tasks and duties and many new risks and potential problems. I think the theme of the dream is "Vigilance is Required," because it was vigilance and caution that moved me to halt the cashing of the suspicious check. I think that the bank teller was actually another copy of myself, because my hair has a tendency to stand up, and each morning I have to apply a wet comb to keep it down. I like to use humor to offset anxiety and lighten otherwise tedious or stressful situations, so Mr. Clown was me serving as the butt of a mild self-deprecatory joke. I'm not sure why the check was from New York, but I have given some thought in the past to the idea of moving to New York and perhaps some day I will.