"God damn it." 

Those three little words caught our attention late Thursday afternoon in the bank.  Our manager stood at the enormous brass vault door with a look of panic on his face.

"What's wrong?"  I asked.

"I just spun the third dial when I realized I put too much time on.  I thought it was Friday."

We all knew what that meant. 

"I put sixty-three hours on the door, and before I realized it, I'd spun the last dial. We're screwed."

The little bank in the third oldest town in Oregon serviced just about everyone, who lived there, which was a whopping one thousand people.  There were only five us who worked there, including our illustrious manager. The bank's head office was located about twenty miles away and another small country branch was about seven miles away, on the other side of the freeway. Our manager and the manager of the other small branch were best buddies. They usually had a few beers after work and would go over the day's activities. Well, tonight would be exceptional, that's what went through our minds. They may be ordering something stronger than beer.

A few chosen words zinged through the bank, tarnishing the lovely 1890's décor. With red velvet and gold lame wallpaper, plus a gorgeous L-shaped teller cage with etched glass, and an enormous crystal chandelier in the center of the lobby, the bank was a knockout. The vault was quite small, holding perhaps a hundred safe deposit boxes. The small inner room had a floor safe where the cash and coin was stored.

Well, just what were we going to do? All the money was locked up, safe and sound. Tomorrow was Friday though, not Saturday. In those days, there was no Saturday banking. There had to be a way to resolve this disastrous problem. Moreover, head office could not, ever, know about this blunder.  Heads had rolled for less than this. I'm sure many thoughts went through our manager's head along these lines. Suddenly, miraculously, the solution evolved. With a game plan ready to activate in the morning, we all went home. 

I hardly slept that night, worrying about the next day. Thank God, it wasn't a large payroll day. Our two largest accounts were a lumber mill and a paper producing plant. Those paydays were killers, and we would sometimes go through over ninety thousand dollars. For a little bank in a very small town, those payrolls were significant.

We five arrived earlier than usual the next morning. There was that lovely vault; it's brass gleaming and reflecting our moves. There was absolutely no way to get it open.

"Let me make a call, hold on a minute," our boss said. He took enormous strides to his desk, situated at the back wall. "Hey buddy, it's me, the stupid one. How's your money situation? Remember what we talked about last night?"

"We're in fine shape, the vault is open."  That was like salt in a wound. "Come on over. I can get you plenty to get you through the day and keep your head off the chopping block, you damn idiot."

The two managers were not only friends, so were their wives. Just one big happy family, you might say. 

"I was going to call you in a minute anyway. I got a hell of a problem over here myself."

"It can't be as bad as mine.  What's the matter?"

"One of the new tellers came in with a see-though blouse and only a bra.  What the hell do I say? Got any ideas?"

"Send her home and tell her she can't wear see-through, plain and simple. I thought you had a real problem, for crying out loud. I'm sending Jessica over right now to get the money. Have it ready. She'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"I'll have it ready.  Hope it goes well today bud."

"You?  I'm praying as we speak."

Jessica drove over and picked up the cash. Of course it was hauled back safely locked in her trunk. When she arrived back, she parked in the lot next to the market as usual. This is where we all parked, five days a week. She turned her key off, locked the door, went to the trunk, and unlocked it. Then she hoisted two large, cream-colored cloth bags full of money and heavy coin. Somehow, she managed to get it to the front door of the bank with no one stopping her or offering help. It was now about eight-thirty. We anxiously opened the door and scooted her in. We had little time to waste as we opened the bank door at ten o'clock.

Scurrying around in the supply room for little boxes or anything we could find, we searched for something to put the currency and coin in. We wouldn't have our usual cash trays as they were locked in the vault. How hokey can you get? For crying out loud, this is a real, honest to God bank and we're fooling around like we've got monopoly money, I thought. 

Ten o'clock was fast approaching and a small crowd of early customers stood waiting like vultures at the door. Our manager graciously opened the door, cordially greeting the folks as they entered the bank. We all said silent prayers that no one would want into their safe deposit box. 

It was going quite well, cash laying in funny little check boxes in the tellers drawers, all of us exuding confidence like never before. Just one more hour and we're home free. It was two o'clock. About then a regular customer, from Western Auto, came in. As she stood at a teller window, she and the teller exchanged small talk as usual while the deposit was being recorded. That's when the customer looked up and saw that beautiful, shiny, brass vault door. 

"That door is just gorgeous. I've never seen the back of it before. How come it's not open?"

I swear on a stack of bibles, this is what the teller said,  "Oh, we just didn't open it today."

The Western Auto lady said nothing. You could almost see the wheels turning, but she kept quiet. Finally, three o'clock came and the manager quickly locked the door. Now, to balance the cash drawers.

We began counting. We knew what we'd started with when we walked in.  That was zero. Then we had to add the cash Jessica hauled back in her car.  Of course, we also had to add all the cash the customers had given us for deposit, and subtract the cash we'd handed out for checks we'd cashed. The clock ticked away as we shoved silly little boxes here and there, finding loose bills that had slipped to the back of the drawers as well as lots of loose coin. The first tally, Oh my God, we were sixteen thousand dollars out of balance. 

The manager was rummy. "Close enough for banking," he joked.

"We have to count it all over, " we chimed in.

Finally, the rat-a-tat-tat of the adding machines, and a click-click-click sounded out a final tally. Success, at last; everything balanced. 

The cash was hauled back to the friendly little branch across the freeway. On Sunday the manager and the operations officer entered the bank and reset the vault time to open correctly for Monday morning.

I know most of you bank in large, commercial, merged-many-times banks now, impersonal and quite efficient. However, those were the days to work in a bank. I went through many transitions in twenty years of working in several banks, from no computers to computers, from small banks to large ones, from teller to loan officer. It was a heck of a ride.

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