I was driving around my hometown during fall break hopin' to score some middle school chicks at the movie theater (joke, but with a hint of truth) when I realized that I was running low on cash money (stupid singing fish plaques…). So I went to my local drive-thru ATM and in mid-transaction I noticed that there was braille on the number pad. My first thought was of course, "WTF?" No really, I started using AIM acronyms in my mind. Anyway, I grabbed the cash and got out of there, careful to watch for any blind drivers behind my ass. My curiosity, however, got the better of me and I decided to stop and get to the bottom of this. Herein lies the transcript of my conversation with the bank manager:

Me: Are you the manager of this bank?
Bank Manager (BM): Yeah, would you like to speak to one of our Spanish-speaking associates?
Me: No…I'm Indian…
BM: Oh, we don't have anyone that speaks-
Me: Indian? Oh darn, guess I'll have to use English…either way, I don't need a loan. I wanted to ask you a few questions for a..uh..report I'm doing for school.
BM: Ok, step into my office.
(We sit down. The room smells like my left front tire)
Me: So your drive-thru ATM…has it ever been hit by a car?
BM: Sure, sometimes people ding it a little.
Me: Do you remember anything special about those drivers?
BM: Well, one of them was Jewish…
Me: No, I mean, were any of them…BLIND?
BM: No…what is that supposed to mean? Is that a new term for Jewish?
Me: Why would you have BRAILLE on the keypad of the drive-thru ATM then?
BM: ….There is? I have no idea…perhaps—
Me: Perhaps you would like more blind people driving? You think you're being so politically correct but did you even think about what you're doing? How are they supposed to know what button to push for English or Spanish?
BM: Well if they're blind they don't…
Me: Exactly.
BM: (blank stare)
Me: I think I've proven my point. You are a terrible person. You're just hoping that your blind clients will never withdraw their money so you can hold onto it forever? Wasn't THAT your plan?
BM: (starts to break down. He weeps like a pussy bitch)
Me: You disgust me.
(I leave in a huff. What the hell does huff mean?)

I returned to the crime scene 2 days later, out of cash yet again. As I drove toward the ATM I recalled my victory over the evil bank manager. I laughed with glee as I punched in my PIN, pulled out my cash, and grabbed my reciept. Then I noticed something else. Those bumps on the keypad…oh shit, that's not braille…they're just bumps to keep your finger from sliding. Oh well, a victory is a victory so: Good Guys: 1, Bad Guys: 0.

Stay tuned for my next investigation!