My government check arrived in my mailbox. Yes, although I file my taxes electronically. But there are so many enraging aspects of the way Stevie Mnuchin is dispensing vast amounts of money to the wrong people, I can’t take the time to concern myself with my check.
I haven’t opened the envelope yet because…well, you can figure out why.
Still, here it is. But while it sits in its envelope on my desk, it isn’t doing any good for anybody. So, for the first time in many years of electronic banking, I must make a physical deposit into my bank account.
I’ve been mulling over this for a couple of days. My bank, Amalgamated, is a very special bank for a number of reasons. It has very few actual banking branches, though, although since it has an excellent electronic banking system and is hooked into a big ATM network through which I can withdraw my own cash without paying a fee, the lack of branches hasn’t disaffected me.
A couple of years ago, I moved north, 60 blocks away from my bank branch on 14th Street. No way was I going to change my bank. I didn’t need to (see above, re ATM’s and electronic banking). Besides, a trip to my branch involved three stops on an express train — no more than a 15 minute or so trip.
Ah. Now I come to the problem: public transportation. I’ve been considering using the subway or maybe a bus, with my mask and gloves. I’m not afraid. But I am wary. I don’t think I want to be using public transportation until maybe June or so. And while I do enjoy walking, 120 blocks is more than even my former internist would insist upon, she with her FitBit.
So I called my bank. And told the nice lady who answered my call about my problem as stated (at far too great a length) above. “How can I deposit this check?”
“You can mail it,” she said. “Mail it to your branch.”
At that point I dropped my head hard onto my desk, metaphorically. Mail!!! Mail, using an envelope and a stamp (I rave about the Post Office and their beautiful stamps frequently)! I could even place this properly addressed and stamped envelope into the actual hand of Hugh, our mailman.
Good lord. Mail.
I apologized to the nice lady at Amalgamated for being dumb. She was so nice she didn’t confirm my evaluation.
Mail. I’m thinking since we no longer need deposit slips, maybe I’ll add a little note to my branch manager, requesting that the check be deposited into my account. You know, like that, like the way we used to function.