cooper was in midtown nashville
Taco Jehovah, Chapter 1
cooper walked into a bank. he sat down in a lounge chair. he felt slightly bewildered. a woman sat in a kiosk-like structure with a computer.
“hello,” the woman said.
“what do you do?” cooper said.
“i say ‘hello’ to people like you,” the woman said.
“like the bank is being hospitable while it takes all your money. the bank,” cooper said.
the woman had short, blonde hair. she wore a name tag that read “phoebe.”
cooper watched phoebe’s five fingers make five different motions along the desktop. though it seemed impossible, her eyes were even busier.
cooper stood. the lounge chair creaked slightly. he walked to the kiosk. he was in front of the kiosk. he was in front of phoebe.
“can i help you in some way?” phoebe said. cooper saw something move behind phoebe’s ear.
“phoebe, there’s no money in the vault, right? it’s just a grand façade. i know it. tell me i’m right phoebe. tell it to me.”
“what do you want?” phoebe said. phoebe placed a finger on her jawline. a drip. a drop. sweat.
“phoebe, do you still offer young people like me free checking accounts and tote bags?” cooper said. “or have you moved on to alarm clocks? because i fully believe it’s time to wake up.”
phoebe removed a cap from a pen. the pen was red. she replaced the cap back on the red pen. she cleared her throat. she removed the cap from the red pen, then quickly replaced the cap.
phoebe removed the cap from the red pen, then quickly replaced the cap. she removed the cap from the red pen, then quickly replaced the cap.
“phoebe, do you want the cap on the pen or not on the pen?” cooper asked.
“can you please just have a seat?” phoebe said.
“phoebe, are you uncomfortable? is that why you are sweating, phoebe?” cooper said.
“sit down, please,” phoebe said. she cupped the side of her neck.
“i need to open a bank account,” cooper said.
“please have a seat and wait for an account associate,” phoebe said.
“okay,” cooper said. “i will go back to the lounge chair. excellent chairs, phoebe. please give my compliments to your corporate design purchasing manager.”
cooper sat down. phoebe exhaled.
an old man near cooper was reading time magazine. the old man wore a short-sleeve dress shirt. the old man wore a cap with the “word “aarp” on the front. in the shirt pocket was a black pen with a tire gauge.
“are you opening a bank account?” the old man said.
“yes,” cooper said.
“a bank account is a wise decision,” the old man said.
“i thought old people were against banks because of the great depression,” cooper said.
“banks made me a lot of money, believe you me.”
“i am not sure to believe you or not. i might believe in the gold system,” cooper said.
“mr. burgess,” a voice said.
it was a man’s voice. the voice belonged to a man with gel in his hair. the man wore a name tag. cooper could not read his name tag. the man wore a suit and tie. the tie had cartoon elephants and giraffes on it.
“pleasure to see you again, mr. burgess,” the man said.
the old man stood up. the old man walked away with the animal-print banker.
cooper looked at the time magazine. an article about infrastructure. an article about afghanistan. about iran. about brazil. about saliva. all of the world. in time.
Like this? Please recommend it and you can find Taco Jehovah here.
