Pretending is fun, and so is banking?!

I think my personal banker has a "thing" for me.

First of all, I'm not supposed to have a personal banker.

Personal bankers are for those people who are making, oh, millions. But, somehow, I ended up with one. What is a personal banker? Well... a personal banker means never having to wait in line, fill out annoying forms or needing to call a 1-800 number. A personal banker calls you Mrs. Smith and is at your beck-and-call (this means you can call him at home). A personal banker fetches coffee and mixes in your cream and sugar.

Anyway, when I opened my bank account on Sunday I didn't really understand that "if you have any problems or questions come or call me" thing. I mean, I though it was just something nice he was supposed to say. So when I stood in line today (standing in line to get a number so I could wait in another line) I was surprised to see him pop up at my side at escort me to his desk.

I cannot express how much time and frustration this is going to save me.

I guess I should have figured this out. All of my colleagues thought it odd when my checkbook arrived, hand delivered, at work in two-days time (and, for the U.A.E.... two days is RECORD time).

"I've been waiting for over a week for my checkbook! And they aren't delivering it to me. I have to go pick it up!" one exclaimed. "I've also been waiting for over a week to get approval on my form to do balance transfers."

I didn't dare tell him that my balance transfer ability was approved in a matter of minutes. I thought that might crush his spirits.

So yea, back to what I was saying... I think my personal banker has a thing for me. He keeps asking if my husband is coming and when. I don't think he believes that I am married. Maybe its because I laugh and smile every time I say that I am (sorry, but it's kind of funny and I can't help it).

I almost don't want to have a husband if it's going to end my personal banking. Oops. Did I just say that out loud?