First you ask the local bank representative in Vancouver how you go about getting a business account for your VISA and INTERAC in a remote area. A little city actually. They, of course, say " No problem!!!!" Just go there and apply from there. So setting up the Galleries will be easy!!!!
HMMMMMMMMMM
So you take the once a week little bus into town after catching it at an ungodly hour of the morning. Then you find said bank only to discover a grumpy and discouraged employee who puts you through the grind only to tell you that they don't have any appointments today. Only after you called and they said it would be fine to drop in.
This happens after you hand over all of your identification which is refused. Why? Because your birth certificate says Quebec and it is different than other birth certificates. There is a little crinkle over the I.D. number sign which interrupts none of the information. You hand over your passport, maybe, and then you discover your B.C. Identification Card expired one week ago!
Do you have an account at the branch or with the bank...no! Because you are trying to set one up and give them your money (which is apparently of no value to them?)
You explain that the little community bus only comes in from Wells once a week and that it will be really hard to get back again before the week is out unless, of course, you walk for a week through the snow and lonely forest perhaps meeting a caribou or a wolf or bear or something.
Rules are rules and appointments are appointments even though you were told it was unlikely that you would even need one.
You wonder if it is the Quebec birth certificate which took you a whole six years to replace last time it went missing. You are , of course, protective of it because you are actually Irish Quebec and it is really hard to navigate through the French system because you were taken from Quebec before school started and you might be able to call people a "Sausage Face" in French but your written French is from high school and you skipped most classes to snog away with some cute boy or other and didn't pay attention until the FLQ crisis when you refused to speak any English and your French still consisted of "Sausage Face" or something!
Needless to say...
You left Quesnel without a bank account, had your present sweetie refuse your collect and desperate long distance call and made a sore foot from stupid boots.
Thankfully you got to have breakfast with the lovely Barbadian Plantation export ,Miss Julia, who is a far distant cousin on the Chauncey side from 1690 something. And the lovely Floyd from Big Country Printers had no problem understanding the instructions that the talented and efficient Bill Horne gave him regarding your new business card, postcard and greeting cards.
Luckily you found a coffee carafe and filter at the Sally Ann and tomorrow morning won't be so bad if you throw some cocoa in the coffee. And go back to bed and try and remember how to call the banker a "Sausage Nose"
1 comment:
P, i'da cried and snotted all over the officious little Sausage Face Cochon.
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