Bloody Banks!

Ever been refused cash from an ATM?

Jason couldn't believe his luck. There was normally a queue at least three or four deep for this cash dispenser which meant ten minutes wait whilst pretending to admire the town's architectural superstructure or the Euclidean layout of the arcade's paving stones.
}It was terribly bad form of course, to be caught casting the merest glance in the direction of the display whilst somebody else punches in their personal access code.

Jason fumbled in his overcoat pocket for his wallet, finally succeeding in freeing his credit card from its confines before secreting it in the palm of his hand.

Another car drew up and stopped on the double yellow lines opposite the hole in the wall

Why was it, Jason wondered, that cash dispensers always seemed to be situated where it was impossible to legally park?
Jason pondered the question as the newcomer took his place at the end of the queue and a well-dressed young lady left the dispenser with a satisfied smirk, obviously happy with the state of her bank balance.

He had the usual lurch in the stomach as he tried to remember his pin number before putting his own and his wife's birthdays together and sagging in relief.

"Never find the damned things when you want them can you?"
Jason looked around in surprise to find that a portly gent in an expensive looking overcoat had joined the queue and appeared to be addressing everybody.

Everybody looked away embarrassed at such forthrightness.
"Hey man, got a light?"
A big-head bully, Jason thought, that explains a lot
"No sorry old chap"
The man behind Jason spoke without looking at his inquisitor.
"Don't have the habit myself."
"How about you pal?"
The bully was leaning past city gent and peering intentlly
at Jason
"Eh, no no I don't..."

"Excuse me "
{The youth in front of Jason brushed passed
All yours. "
Jason turned to see the gloating green face of the dispenser leering at him, daring him to approach.
"I gave up smoking some while ago, sorry."
"Bloody idiot!" The bully was obviously not of the religious persuasion.
Nobody smoke in this bloody country? "

Turning away in embarrassment Jason reached out to enter his access code ... one, two ,two, three.

DO YOU WANT TO MAKE A CASH WITHDRAWL?

The letters flickered at him like some devilish alphabet soup.
"No other reason for being here is there pal?"
Jason looked up to see the face of the bully leaning over his shoulder, the city gent having departed for a dispenser free of idiocy.
"Excuse me please," Jason looked at the bully
Somewhat affronted but succeeding in maintaining his good manners, Jason found himself on the verge of being rude
"Perhaps you could stand back a little "


"Don't worry pal, I didn't see your pin ... well, only the two three at the end!"
The bully laughed, a huge wheezy affair.


Jason turned back to the machine to see the green light showing it's impatience by blinking.
He hit the
button praying he'd chosen the correct one of the four on display

HOW MUCH DO YOU REQUIRE?

Like the Spanish inquisition Jason thought eyeing the £10,...up to £100 display.
Again, he tried to work out which button applied to which amount.


"Bottom right corner"
The voice trumpeted over his left shoulder.
"I can see that!"
The man fell back suitably chastened as Jason punched the 20 button.
There was a whirr followed by a decisive click and then silence.
Jason wiped his palms nervously.


YOUR CARDHOLDER HAS REFUSED PAYMENT. PLEASE REFER TO YOUR BANK.

Oh God, my salaries still not in, Jason's shoulders slumped.
"No lolly in the account hey pal, best shift over and let a major league player have a go"

Jason hurried away hanging his head and avoiding eye contact with everyone in earshot of the voluble idiot.
Getting into his aged Fiesta he decided to try the Link machine outside the Nationwide knowing from experience that what one machine refuses another will sometimes oblige ... heaven knew why.

The Link machine announced itself with a soft red glow and Jason quickly punched in his family's birthdays.
There was no whirr or click this time, the display simply lit up

DO YOU REQUIRE CASH?

The yes button seemed to retreat into its holder as he reached for it, pressing it down longer than necessary for some obscure reason.


YOUR CARDHOLDER HAS REFUSED PAYMENT PLEASE REFER TO YOUR BANK


Damn.
Jason turned away, defeated once more by the machinations of the world's financial institutions and wondering how he would explain this sudden absence of cash to his wife.
The machine beeped, an unusual enough occurrence to turn Jason around in surprise.

A further message blinked seductively from within the confines of the visual display unit.


ARE YOU DISSATISFIED WITH THE PREVIOUS MESSAGE?


Jason read the message twice before it sunk in and then reached out tentatively and tapped the yes button


DO YOU WANT REVENGE?

Looking fearfully around, suspecting some sort of prank, Jason considered the message displayed in front of him.
This had to be some sort of joke ... didn't it?
He reached out and stabbed at the yes button.



Obscurely, the response pleased Jason, knowing that he'd made the right decision.
The screen blacked out for a moment and then returned with;


ENTER THE NAME AND ADDRESS OF YOUR BANK

Entering into the spirit of the thing, Jason retrieved his redundant cash card from his wallet pocket and scoured it's cover for the necessary information, entering it as ordered.
The screen perceptibly brightened as it displayed the information:

ROYAL BANK OF SCOTLAND PARK PARADE HIGH WYCOMBE. Sort code 095522, account no. 745623589
PLEASE PRESS YES IF INFORMATION DISPLAYED IS CORRECT


The "yes" button glowed in anticipation as Jason reached out.
The words slowly disappeared as if sinking into some diabolical sulphur swamp leaving the screen dimly green for a few moments giving Jason the opportunity to look around for possible other bank customers. After all, it wouldn't do to be seen conversing with a machine!
The display suddenly brightened, displaying a further message surprisingly in red overlaying the now phosphorant green.


JOHN MARTIN GAUNT MANAGER PARK PARADE ROYAL BANKOF SCOTLAND HIGH WYCOMBE BRANCH
DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE

Gaunt, yes! That was the name, that was the little shit that refused Jason's application for a temporary overdraft following the recent birth of his only child.
Not a justifiable reason apparently.


Anger welled up in Jason's breast and he stabbed furiously at the yes button wanting to severely damage JOHN MARTIN GAUNT for creating this economic tragedy in the
life of his small family.


The display disappeared leaving a darkened screen and baffling Jason who had expected great things to happen.
He blinked behind his glasses and jabbed furiously at all the available buttons feeling cheated as the display remained obstinately blank.Perhaps he'd imagined it all.
Perhaps his precarious financial situation had created havoc inside his stressed-out head and forced his mind to play tricks.
Oddly, the machine bleeped as if to attract his attention and further words skittered across the screen:


THE SUM OF 10,000 HAS BEEN DEBITED FROM THE ACCOUNT OF JOHN MARTIN GAUNT AND CREDITED TO THE ACCOUNT OF JASON JOSEPH ALBRIGHT
DO YOU ACCEPT THE TRANSACTION AND ASSOCIATED CHARGE?


Jason had never seen so many words displayed on a hole in the wall screen before.
The message was clear enough though; he was ten grand to the good and misery Gaunt was ten grand down.

ason turned to see an ambulance racing past, siren blaring heading back up Amersham Hill, the way he had come.
Another bleep and Jason turned back to the VDU to find a further and obviously final message:
ACCOUNT OF JASON JOSEPH ALBRIGHT DEBITED BY THE LIFE OF ONE WIFE.