I went to the bank on my lunch break to cash in this sweet voucher I have for RRSPs. (2! DAYS! LEFT! ONLY! HURRY! CONTRIBUTE! NOW! That's what the signs all said. They even had balloons to emphasize the point.) The teller could not do this for me, so he took me over to the RRSP counter and told me I had to make an appointment.
Bank Lady: Alright, when can you come in? 1? 2? 3?
ME: Well, I'm actually just on my lunch break from work...
Bank Lady: We are open later today. What kind of funds do you have?
I stare at her blankly.
Bank Lady: Do you have mutual funds?
ME: Ummmm... yeah, okay. Mutual funds... sure... (at this point I start to trail off and stare into a far away land)
She looks at me as if to say, 'She couldn't possibly be THAT dumb. She wears glasses.'
ME: *head snaps up* Yes! I have mutual funds!
Bank Lady: Alright, come back at 5.
Yeah. I went to college.
TOTALLY looking forward to showing my face there again today. I am seriously hoping that the transaction consists of me shoving the voucher in her face and saying "HERE. PUT THIS IN THE PLACE WHERE THE STUFF IS."
I don't know how well I will be able to cover up not knowing anything about money. I fear that when she asks me to invest more money, she will see right through me when I reply with, "Well, Susan... the market is a little risky for me right now, what with quarterly profits being down and all. It's really a mess out there! Am I right, or am I right?"
3 comments:
Bank anxiety ranks high on my list of worst anxieties EVER.
It wasn't as bad as I thought. She didn't ask me any crazy questions... but I am kind of sad that I didn't get to make any of my sweet jokes about the "first quarter" and "skyrocketing interest rates". Are they even skyrocketing? I don't friggin' know.
That was really funny. That was like, Dooce funny. I snickered into my coffee mug.
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