Window Pain Today I finally got my own teller window at my new job in a bank. Now may be a good time to rent some movies about bank robberies. Although I can't see Al Pacino taking me hostage so his boyfriend can get a sex change operation. But if a guy comes in and sticks a gun in my face, hey, I'm putting the money in the bag. Hell I'll bring it out to the guy's car if he wants. But that's not what I'm afraid of. Ya know what I am afraid of? A note. Somebody slipping me a note saying "give me all your money, or I'll shoot you with the pointed finger in my jacket." No gun, no knife, not even a Celine Dion CD ready to be played. Just take my manhood why don't you. The note is such an embarrassment on both sides. Was the guy gonna forget what he was doing at the bank that day? He had to write a note to remember? "Let's see. Milk, eggs, toilet paper, and $50,000 in non-consecutive 20s."