Brought To You By The Letter B

Yesterday I went in to Shmupplebees and convinced one of my co-workers that I needed money more than she did, so she went home and let me have her shift. My first few tables used credit cards to pay their bills, which is fine with me because it takes less time than if they were to use cash. I would really prefer it if everyone would pay with cards. That way I don't end up with hundreds of dollars in my apron by the end of the night. About my fifth table in, the guy pulls out a fifty and places it on his ticket. Reassuring him that I will be right back with his change, I go up to the bartender to have him break it for me. He is extremely busy and I can see that the managers are in the office doing nothing but looking at porn and texting on their phones, so I asked them for change instead.

"So you didn't bring a bank, then?" the female manager asks me.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," I reply. When you're about to get in trouble, always try to make your boss laugh. Then whatever you have done wrong won't be as big of a deal.

For those of you who don't know, a bank is twenty dollars of your own money that you bring to work with you. It is supposed to be split up into fives, ones, and an assortment of coins. Now, I only go to Shmupplebees when I am poor. If I have a spare twenty dollars I'm going to talk myself into buying beer and enjoying a night off, so needless to say I did not bring a bank. I really don't see the point in it anyway. It doesn't make it more convenient for me. If someone pays with a fifty on a ten dollar check I'm going to need it broken anyway. If a six-top pays separately, each handing me a twenty on their seven dollar tickets, that twenty dollars is not going to help me at all.

No, Shmupplebees manager, I did not bring a bank. I never bring a bank, and I will continue not bringing a bank. To me the bank is beer money, and I'm just here to get some more of it.