Late yesterday afternoon, I got crazy and decided to withdraw twenty dollars from my checking account.
It was okay. The account still has enough to pay the remaining bills.
My bank has locked booths for nearly every ATM it controls. That can be reassuring, and I choose to feel assured there’s a ventilation system for keeping the air fresh.
I’m not a smoker, so it isn’t always easy to distinguish between odors caused by cigars and pipes. Conventional wisdom states that cigars are worse, but without firsthand experience I can’t say.
I can identify cigarette tobacco and marijuana. They’re both gross, but it’s understandable that a person with health issues may have to fire up a joint in inappropriate places. I’m patient with marijuana smoke. Not the other stuff, though.
The ATM booth I used yesterday was single occupancy. It had one machine, and enough space for only one customer. Very little room for smoke to dissipate.
In retrospect, I think it was pipe tobacco because the odor itself didn’t cause immediate revulsion. Did a previous customer actually smoke in the booth, or did that person do the vintage movie actor thing and hide the pipe in his coat pocket before using the ATM? I’ve often wondered if anyone has set his own clothes on fire doing that.
As you may have guessed, it’s slim pickings for blog material today. Other ATM users probably noticed the same odor, but they aren’t writing about it.
Time to put yesterday behind me. The day was actually pretty good, anyway. The only genuinely awkward situation was in a waiting room, when I accidentally played something dumb that was recorded on my smartphone. No one looked in my direction. Did they sense it was an accident and didn’t want to compound my embarrassment, or did they suspect otherwise and feel adamant about not encouraging juvenile behavior?
Right. Time to put yesterday behind me. It won’t be easy, as I ponder whether the smartphone equivalent of the inopportune fart will become a subject of gossip.