In a hurry.

Today I was at the bank. I go to this bank several times a week to make cash deposits for work.

Over time, I’ve gotten to know the tellers who work there. Last week, I found out that the teller whom I’ve known the longest was leaving. He told me his intent was to go back to school and eventually put to use the biology degree he’d earned in undergrad. Medicine he wants to do. I was both happy that he was moving beyond his entry level bank teller position but sad because I knew he’d be replaced by a new, likely less proficient teller. 

And today was the day I met the new teller.

His name is Chris. Chris was kind and polite and full of smiles when I walked to the counter. Even if he’s not yet as fast as the teller he’d replaced, he already seemed equally as pleasant. I soon found out that he was nowhere near as fast as the pace I’d been used to. 

This was fine. I didn’t expect him to be as fast. I don’t expect him to be as fast because I, too, have been new at jobs and appreciate grace from anyone willing to give it to me in those first few days.

Apparently, however, the old man standing behind me in his Louis Vuitton loafers, khaki shorts, and oxford cotton button down shirt forgot what that feels like. 

I waited at the counter as Chris, the new teller, deposited, counted, cashed, and sorted the currencies I’d given him. As I waited, the man standing behind me grew impatient. 

As he stood in the makeshift line behind me, I could hear him let out sighs of discontent, then, in the reflection of the protective glass in front of me, I saw him cross his arms, uncross then cross them again. He checked his watch and rolled his eyes.  

“This is ridiculous. I’ve never had to wait this long,” he muttered to the woman standing beside him. 

She rejected his invitation to pile onto what he considered to be such an unpleasant experience.. 

Chris could feel he was moving slower than he felt he should have been and apologized to me. I encouraged Chris not to apologize and urged him to take as much time as he needed.

“I’m not in a hurry, man. Accuracy is the key here, anyway. Not speed.”

Finally, the impatient man made his way to the teller next to me. I guess he forgot his manners on the way.

The teller and the man handled their business.

“Thanks for doing business here. Have a nice day.”, the teller said as the man walked away.

The man turned around without responding and went to the branch manager’s office. 

“I just want to thank you for sitting here and doing nothing while we all waited in line. Nice place you’re running here.” he said. 

I couldn’t hear anything that was said after that. All I saw was a pissed off old man wearing the tackiest looking pair of Louis Vuitton loafers I’d ever seen in my life push the glass door open and storm out of the building.

I think I was the only onlooker who’d watched everything play out from beginning to end. 

After bearing witness to such heinous behavior, I couldn’t help but wonder: what the fuck was he in such a hurry for?

For example, if he were on his way to see his first grandchild be born and the time he spent standing in line prevented him from being there for it, I’d maybe understand his frustration. Or if he only had a few moments left to spend with a loved one and his time spent furiously waiting in line prevented that from happening, I’d get it. 

But anything short of either of those scenarios and I just can’t fathom getting so upset over such a minor inconvenience. 

This seems to be a problem, not just for this angry man at the bank but for so many people in the world today. 

Everyone’s in such a hurry. 

In a hurry to go where and do what, I’m not really sure. 

So while everyone else is hurrying around to do whatever it is they’re trying to do wherever it is they’re trying to do it, I’ll be over here. 

Making friends with the newcomer and watching it all play out.