You mess with Harpo Marx, you get the horns.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Deodorise That Cheque, Before You Cash It

The Bank of America in New Milford, Connecticut called in emergency hazardous materials specialists when someone attempted to cash a cheque recently. The reason? The check was...erm, "whiffy."

Apparently, the owner of the cheque had machine oil on his hands and it got on the cheque before he desposited it.

The first question that leapt to my mind was, "Have they never got a stinky cheque before?"

Perhaps the branch in New Milford is a small, pristine place. Maybe the people of New Milford are all fastidiously anal-retentive types. I can't imagine there's not at least one single slob in the whole burg though.

Let's get down to brass tacks. Even the neatest, most elegant and pompous dowager in town is bound to have a bit of wind now and then on the way to the bank. Maybe it's a bean luncheon at the local social club, or a bit of overaged Cabernet Sauvignon, but it's bound to happen. No matter how well insulated the cheque or banknotes are in the old handbag, once the old marm' lets one fly in the Cadillac they're bound to catch a hint of the old odors. After all, such smells hang on like leeches.

On that note, surely the businessmen of New Milford sweat a bit. As northernly as Connecticut is, they still have summer and there's only so much Right Guard antipersperant and Tag cologne you can rub/splash on before they give way to the glandy secretions in a heat wave. Global warming and what not would only be bound to improve the prospect for one's wallet to give off fumes that would attract every musk ox in the vicinity of lower New England. Good thing Connecticut's got a dearth on musk ox.

Let's not forget smelly foods as well. While curry is not at all the rage in the US that it is in Britain, there's plenty of exotic-smelling foods that the average Connecticutian might find themselves stained with, from bacon chili-dogs to kung-pao scrapple.

So then, surely the clever lads and ladies at New Milford's Bank of America have come across a petrol-infused transaction or two? Sure, it might be a bit flammable but is that so bad compared with the prospect of several notes of cash from a businessman with a pound of 3-bean soup, a pint of stout, and a back pocket wallet?

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