art of bank-teller flirting

A friend told me recently that he went out with a waitress who left her phone number on a napkin for him. I had always thought that this was a brassy move. Bold, but relatively harmless, I suppose, and it came briefly to mind yesterday as I drove to get a cashier’s check.

I decided to learn from my friend's example and try it.

I was contemplating how to get my bank teller to ask me out since traditional methods of flirting are nonexistent in a bank. First of all, money isn’t very funny; I can’t laugh at stupid jokes if there is nothing to joke about, and other bank patrons are annoyed with me holding up the line by being chatty. (Plus, it’s chancy for the teller, who is handling money and doesn’t need distractions.)

Touching is out, because of protective barriers. And eye contact is brief, as the teller has to concentrate on the computer screen showing your account information. What is a girl to do when a smart, costumer-service savvy, gorgeous, single man works at her local branch? Slip him my number, on some paper scrap…

Truth be told, it was just a quick fantasy; I promptly forgot about it at the bank, when someone new helped me.

But then, eureka!, New Teller needed help from Gorgeous Teller, and then asked for our business contact information to be written on a slip of paper. No one knew my internal struggle. Should I just give the business phone number? That’s all they really need. But how ironic, that on the very day of my daydream, I got the chance to be a little bold, a little brassy, a little flirty in the bank.

And I left my cell number as well. For the art-of-flirting’s sake.

I was pleased. I walked out to the car. Got in pertly, readjusted my mirror.

And noticed my lipstick had smeared all over my chin.