Counting the Chicken Money
I worked as a bank teller while I was in college. After I graduated in 1974, I went to work at a branch in a busy commercial district. This was back in the days of night deposits. One of the businesses that brought its cash to the bank dropbox each night was a fast food chicken restaurant. Each morning the tellers would count night deposits in a ritual that I can see -- and smell -- to this day. Nobody wanted to count the chicken money.
We'd gather around a conference table while our manager wheeled in a big cart of night deposit bags and dumped them out before us. The heavy canvas bags were nearly identical: each fairly grimy pouch had the name of the bank stenciled across the side and a strong zipper across the top. But even though they looked alike, the chicken money bag always stood out from the rest. You could smell that bag no matter where you were sitting. And that was before it was opened. The actual money reeked.
Counting the night deposits was like a game of musical chairs. With our supervisor on hand, we had to keep busy. And with limited time to count deposits before the bank opened, we had to move briskly. On the other hand, we all knew that the chicken money bag would be the last one counted, so everyone's goal was to be counting a different bag when the chicken bag's turn finally came. We all had our stalling strategies as the pile dwindled down.
It was there that I learned a life lesson that is still with me 46 years later: Despite my best efforts, I can't always control the outcome. Sometimes I have to count the chicken money.
(Photo credit: Deborah Buckmaster)
"Counting the chicken money" could be shorthand for all kinds of things, from who has to change the dirty diaper or haul the recycling and yard debris bins up to the street, to who has to try to reach a live person at the elusive "tech support" or "customer service." And when you think about it, aren't we all counting chicken money these days? Despite our protests or our best efforts at avoidance, we're all having to do things we don't want to do. Starting with keeping our distance from loved ones and friends. One thing about chicken money, though: there's no getting around it. We just have to do it. But here's the other thing: we can.
We can learn other lessons from chicken money, too. Such as, unsavory tasks don't get better when we let them sit. And, things do get better if we just do what's needed. You'll no doubt have lessons of your own. As with so many things, when it comes to counting chicken money, we all have our own stories.
What are yours?
Until tomorrow, stay safe and be healthy. And if you feel frustrated when you have to count chicken money, remember that you're not alone. Together, we can do this.
Love,
Nancie/Mom/Mimi/Grandma
We'd gather around a conference table while our manager wheeled in a big cart of night deposit bags and dumped them out before us. The heavy canvas bags were nearly identical: each fairly grimy pouch had the name of the bank stenciled across the side and a strong zipper across the top. But even though they looked alike, the chicken money bag always stood out from the rest. You could smell that bag no matter where you were sitting. And that was before it was opened. The actual money reeked.
Counting the night deposits was like a game of musical chairs. With our supervisor on hand, we had to keep busy. And with limited time to count deposits before the bank opened, we had to move briskly. On the other hand, we all knew that the chicken money bag would be the last one counted, so everyone's goal was to be counting a different bag when the chicken bag's turn finally came. We all had our stalling strategies as the pile dwindled down.
It was there that I learned a life lesson that is still with me 46 years later: Despite my best efforts, I can't always control the outcome. Sometimes I have to count the chicken money.
"Counting the chicken money" could be shorthand for all kinds of things, from who has to change the dirty diaper or haul the recycling and yard debris bins up to the street, to who has to try to reach a live person at the elusive "tech support" or "customer service." And when you think about it, aren't we all counting chicken money these days? Despite our protests or our best efforts at avoidance, we're all having to do things we don't want to do. Starting with keeping our distance from loved ones and friends. One thing about chicken money, though: there's no getting around it. We just have to do it. But here's the other thing: we can.
We can learn other lessons from chicken money, too. Such as, unsavory tasks don't get better when we let them sit. And, things do get better if we just do what's needed. You'll no doubt have lessons of your own. As with so many things, when it comes to counting chicken money, we all have our own stories.
What are yours?
Until tomorrow, stay safe and be healthy. And if you feel frustrated when you have to count chicken money, remember that you're not alone. Together, we can do this.
Love,
Nancie/Mom/Mimi/Grandma
Comments
Eventually, a colleague received intensive training, and hence took all the cases, much to our relief