TIM: ... and can I get forty dollars cash, please.
BANKER: Okay. Just type in your pin number, please.
TIM: Actually, make it Forty-five dollars, cash. Five dollars for top up. In notes.
(Banker does her thing and Tim does his thing and things are quiet as things tend to be).
TIM: (Wonderingly) When I say cassssh .... what do you think of?
I mean, do you think of coins or notes?
BANKER: I can give it to you in coins if you like.
TIM: No no.
(Opens up wallet and takes out a coin, rolls it around it his hand, throws it up in the air once or twice and catches it, enjoying its glitter and flash in the Westpac light)
I mean, coins feeeeeel different, don't they? Coins feel different to notes.
BANKER: Yeah, coins are heavier.
TIM: (Places coin back in wallet).
BANKER: (Bats at a fly with a piece of paper)
TIM: (Looking around at the hermetically sealed bank) Where do they come from, do you think?
BANKER: (Nods to the door) The door.
TIM: Yeah. They come from the customers. If only they didn't have customers in the bank, then everyth...
BANKER: No. They come in through the door.
Gosh, I liked her. I was reading Raymond Chandler at the time, but Chandler's sparse prose had nothing on here that day. Hope I get her next time I go to the bank ...