Tales of a weary bank consumer


So I'm depositing some money in a bank. It's not my bank. It's my brother's. I've borrowed a little money the day before, and now I'm paying him back. And the teller asks if I'd like to play the bank's scratch-off contest and possibly win a ton of money.

I tell her that I'm not a customer, that I'm depositing money in my--

She interrupts, tells me that's not a problem. So do I want to play or not?

"Sure," I say, shrugging, figuring I'll kill ten seconds while I learn that I'm not a winner of a quarter of a million dollars or whatever the pay-off was.