I do all my banking at the Farmer’s State Bank in Allen. I’ve been doing my banking there since December 1963, about the time I moved to Allen. I have always kept a close eye on them, especially after they built their new facility. Of some interest to me at the time was where will they keep the money? They built what appears to be a storm shelter which I figured would make a grand vault. But actually I have never been able to figure out in which part of their building they stash what must be hundreds of pounds of heavy coins and wads of paper money. But I just had to learn to trust them in that.

Not every employee in the bank knows this, but it is the senior teller Barbara Sanders who runs things. That’s why I always try and be patient when I go up to the counter and being patient while waiting for Barbara is well worth the while. Now I know, the other tellers are competent, but I figure all my “big” business deals deserve her intelligent caring attention in caring for my banking business. Especially like I had last week.

You see, I was out of money and going out of town. I like to have a little bit of that old “legal tender” in my wallet when I go up to Oklahoma City or someplace. But not to worry, I thought. I will just go to the ATM and get some money. It turned me down. Flat. I tried several times but the machine just gave me a cold look. No moola. So, the next week I tried the cold-hearted machine again. Just to be sure. Again, instant rejection.

I later went straight in — to the top. To Barbara. No nonsense Barbara went right to work. She had the bank’s expert mechanics get to work. Led by Frank, one of the bank’s smartest (another Allen graduate) and some other ingenious officers reportedly went out and pounded on it for quite a while — to no avail, they couldn’t get this defective piece of machinery. to work.

I didn’t get mad. I know the bank does the best it can, hiring the best employees they can find in our little town, but I was thinking this wasn’t good enough. I need my ATM card to work. I had already explained how that I knew full well how all that stuff worked. I’m no fool you know. It had worked good in Paris, France and other faraway points scattered about in the USA and Canada. Other vacation points had gushed out the money at my command.

It was a few days later that my nonagenarian (90-year-old brain) had an epiphany. Barbara (on one of my frequent follow up trips) had assured me that “their” equipment was indeed OK. Quietly, and without embarrassing the obviously mistaken teller, Barbara, I went home and emptied out my wallet. Hmm. I discovered a second card. My on-going epiphany finally resulted in my having another “Ah Ha” experience. I had been using the wrong card. I decided to keep this information to myself. After all, I didn’t want to bring any embarrassment onto my favorite and senior teller, Barbara. The correct card worked just fine. I pretended to ignore the strange looks I now get in our bank’s lobby. What do they know anyway?

I very quietly drove my silent electric golf cart through the banks drive through (after hours) and sure ‘nuff. I got money. I was trying to figure out how I could share this with my favorite banker? I fear she already has it figured out. Maybe I’ll just forget going into the bank this week. Just saying.

Have a good week but don’t let your nonagenarian tendencies get the best of you. But it is good to make sure you are in good with your own personal teller. Guess I’ll just keep on banking here in Allen at Farmers State Bank.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

cwaynebullard@gmail.com