Feeling at Home

When I started earning babysitting money, G'ma and Daddooooo took me to their local branch of a major bank and introduced me to a banker.  Once I had an account, replete with a small book to record my deposits, I began a relationship with Miss Sincerbow.

She was usually in the window on the end.  She was young and happy and she never made me feel like anything other than her most valued customer.  TBG and I opened our Wedding Account with her a decade or so later, after she herself was married and had changed her name.  To me, she's always Miss Sincerbow.

When Little Cuter earned some money, I took her to the local branch of a major bank and introduced her to a banker.  That woman struck up a conversation with my daughter, gathering all the information she needed without my having to volunteer a word.  When I complimented her on treating my kid with respect, she said "Someday she'll want a car loan, a home loan, a college loan.  We hope she'll remember us then." 

Remembering a bank with fond feelings was something I lost for a long time.  Then I found my local branch of a major bank and introduced myself to the bankers and the tellers.  We were friendly before I got shot, and we are friendly now. 

"How's the grandbaby?"  "You look great!"  It's a giant hug every time I walk through the door.  We compare nail polish colors and CD interest rates and baby pictures and accounts for my not-for-profit.
I hate paying bills.  I love going to the bank.  I think of Miss Sincerbow and the Marin teller on every visit.

There's no place like home; soft memories linger in my heart.