An ATM’s Perspective

After a day as an airline professional when passengers have pushed my buttons assuming they are entitled to pots of gold beneath rainbows, made me ponder how it feels to be an ATM. Can you imagine how many push a poor lil’ ATM’s buttons 24 hours a day?! Drunken lads stagger up to their screen. Rednecks and grandmothers slowly make their selection. Soccer moms mutter at hooligans in spacious suv’s, and farmers with callused fingers come to grips with technology. On the flip side of the coin not dispensed at this machine, businesspeople are frustrated by the time consuming process with numerous entries. I often wish I could order warm cocoa debited from my account. The machines deliver bills withstanding weather and exhaust pipes, while anticipating their next debit snack.

From a drive up ATM’s point of view we must appear such silly creatures. Occasionally I drive too close for comfort. My side mirror brushes against the machine leaving inadequate space to exit when my window is frozen. When there is too much distance my attempt at looking cool typically accomplishes quite the opposite. My upper body extends beyond the window, work badge dangling in the air like a Joeys’ pole straps off a chairlift, reaching. Reaching further as obliques and ribs squeal in pain as the window frame juts deeply into my flesh. Is it worth the humiliation and global warming over running inside for a minute, as I allow the car behind making me flustered and sweaty? This occurred the same visit the machine ate my card, not releasing it like an excited golden chewing a tennis ball.

The 14th Dalai Lama suggested when I heard him speak, we should try to see things from numerous angles and all perspectives. Perhaps we can try even if our destiny is an airline professional on a challenging day or a machine dispensing Benjamin’s, while people push our buttons…

Published by jwbean

So happy you're here! Allow me to take your imagination along with me on my adventures through the world and into my heart, via BeansDream.com. I started Bean's Dream at an Edinburgh hostel with a little help from some whiskey and a torn piece of paper. Now, almost eight years later, I find myself still following my dream of writing about traveling and life. Grab your favorite beverage, snuggle into a comfy space, and let me transport you through my heart to far-away lands. I appreciate your presence. Jenny "Bean" "About Bean" edited by: Tuckerman Wunderle

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