And I said, what about Breakfast at Tiffany's
Hey Boy,
You missed a funny conversation when we were away on holiday. We were chatting about when I worked in the bank in the "olden days".
No one had bank cards, everyone still had pass books. My job was to copy the information from the pass books, once the tellers had written in the transaction, into the massive big leather bound ledgers.
I would scribble in the information, and then stand up and shout out the name "Passbook for Cock-Burn" was my favourite. Mr Cock-Burn said "my name is "coburn". I said, "Oh wow, your name is spelt wrong on the passbook"....
And then Tooli asked, if you didn't have bank cards, how did you take money out in other towns? I thought for a moment and then I remembered.
Someone would come into the bank, and say "Can I withdraw money from my branch, which is 45 miles away". They would present their passbook, we would verify that it was our bank's passbook, fill in the necessary withdrawal form, and then bang the book up on the back of the box. "Telephone call please".
It was my job then to go to the phone, phone the branch ask to speak to someone in deposit accounts. There would then be a conversation along the following lines.
"Hi, we have your customer, Mr Oliver Connell**". He would like to withdraw £12.00".
"Okay, yeah, he has that much money, describe his signature to me..."
"he writes out his full name, with a great big "o", and the liver inside it, and you can't read connell apart from the two Ls at the end".
"Hmm, could be, although he's only written "O Connell" here; can you describe him to me?"
"Hmm, he's about 5'8", reddish hair, bit messy, needs to go to the barbers, unshaven, looks like he might have a hangover".
"Yeah, that sounds like him, that'll be okay then".
Yip. That was bank procedure. We didn't half snigger over some of the descriptions I could remember.
** Names have been changes to protect the innocent. If you want to know who the red-haired, scruffily dressed alchie was give me a PM
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