Variel Goes to the Bank

copyright 2000 Sarah Jane Elliott. All rights reserved.

The following is a true story. Well, everything up to Variel is true. The rest did happen, but only in my head. Unfortunately.

I approached the counter warily; I knew this wasn't going to be easy. The teller on the other side couln't have been any older than me. His nametag said "Steve." Steve the banker. Brilliant.

"Can I help you?" asked Steve.

I sincerely doubt it. I took a deep breath. "Yes. I need to talk to someone about my Scotia Student Loan. See, I have to fill out the application here, but my guarantor is in Milton, and she doesn't want to let that kind of sensitive information out of her hands, so she wants to fill out her part of the application at your Milton branch. I need to know how exactly I go about filling in my part."

Steve stared blankly at me. He looked as if I'd whacked him upside the head with a blunt object. The silence stretched on. Finally Steve blinked and opened his mouth. "Natalie!"

I winced as Natalie came over. "Yes?" Steve pointed at me. Natalie looked me over appraisingly. "Can I help you?"

I managed to keep myself from rolling my eyes and repeated my story. And Natalie stared blankly at me. Finally, she folded her arms across her chest. "OSAP is taken care of by your school." She made to walk away, and Steve got ready to yell 'next!'

"No," I said, calmly and levelly. "Not OSAP. My Scotia student loan. The University doesn't have anything to do with that."

She stared at me again. And kept staring. I began to fidget. Then Natalie looked over her shoulder. "Jeff!"

Jeff was wearing a suit and tie. Jeff was obviously higher in the pecking order. He looked at the cluster of me and Natalie and Steve, and at the rapidly stalling queue behind me. "Can I help you?"

I made a small, involuntary squeak, not unlike a mouse being stepped on, and hoped that Jeff, Natalie, and Steve hadn't heard me. I took a deep breath, and explained for the third time. I have never seen so many blank stares in my life. Finally, Jeff said, "OSAP is taken care of by your school."

"NO!" I was starting to sound like the possessed Linda Blair. I tried to calm down. "It's not OSAP. It's the SCOTIA student loan."

Jeff stared at me. And stared some more. I wanted to pick up the debit card reader and beat him over the head with it. Jeff wandered off, and I waited. And waited. And waited. Natalie drifted away, and Steve busied himself with things that didn't involve looking at me. My feet were screaming in agony, but nobody offered me a chair. Steve and I waited in awkward silence for half an hour before Jeff finally came back.

"We don't do the loan here. You'll have to go to Bloor and Spadina, or call the loan line." He looked down his nose at me, as though I was the stupidest person he had ever encountered.

I knew that screaming wouldn't do any good. I balled my hands into fists and stalked out of the bank.

Ten minutes later I stalked back in. With backup.

The other bank patrons took one look in our direction and dove, screaming, for shelter behind the now-obsolete withdrawl slip counter. Jeff, alerted by the commotion, turned around just in time to see Variel lunging for him. He let out an incoherent squeak as one of the griffin's talons seized his jacket and tie and lifted him from the ground. I wasn't worried. Variel knew what he was doing, and Jeff wasn't about to be hurt. But he was definitely paying attention now.

"Look here you," Variel said civilly. "This young lady has been more than reasonable. She has been doing business with this branch for the last three years, and dismissing her now is hardly good business practice, now is it?" Variel shook Jeff so hard that his head flopped around on his neck like a rag doll's.

Jeff gave a squawk that might have been affirmation.

"Very good," the griffin purred. "Now, you are going to get on that phone and straighten things out, now aren't you?" Another shake. Jeff squawked again.

I have never seen bank clerks move so fast. For the next ten minutes, as Variel mantled protectively over me and glowered at anyone who appeared to be slowing down -- or calling security -- the attention of each and every bank employee was focused on me. It took all of ten minutes to contact the loan office and find out exactly what I needed to do, and it turned out to be simple. I thanked Jeff politely, declined the complimentary pens, calendars, and dayplanners that the managers were shoving at me, and strode regally from the bank. Our exit was marred slightly when Variel had problems with the revolving door.

"Thank you," I said when we reached the street. With Variel beside me, I could actually cross the road without risk of being run down by a taxi.

"Think nothing of it," Variel said. "They needed the lesson. But I do hope they didn't learn anything from this experience."

I glanced at him askance. "What?"

He chuckled. "I made a promise to that manager. Next time, I'm eating him."