If you grew up in the fifties and/or sixties like I did, you might remember a supermarket chain called - of all things - Piggly Wiggly. If not, bear with me, there's a point to this. Piggly Wiggly supermarkets had a gimmick. To enter them, you had to go through this twisty-turny little fenced-in path, and through a turnstile. What this had to do with pigs escapes me. It did look kind of like the ramp slaughterhouses have, although I can't believe that's what it was supposed to be.
Anyhow, apparently Piggly Wiggly has gone out of the grocery business and into the banking business. At least, their store designer is designing ATM drive-up lanes now, like the two I drove through today.
My bank ATM used to be in a huge parking lot where the only impediments to drive-up banking were potholes the size of SUVs and the odd drunk mistaking the kiosk for a restroom. Then a new fast food restaurant sprang up and the ATM building was downsized and moved to a corner of the lot. The only way to get to it is by taking such a sharp left turn that you start thinking that maybe the designer had a hinged car.
Then there's another sharp left turn to pull up to the thing, and barely enough room to fit both your outside mirrors between the ATM and two giant, yellow, metal poles that seem to lean further in every time I go there. I suspect that angry customers beat on them with tire irons after scraping their vehicle one too many times on them.
But the thing that really bounces my check is how they manage to make the lane so narrow, yet a person can hardly reach the buttons on the ATM. How the heck do they do that? How can I be too close to something if I can barely reach it? This paradox defies the laws of physics and possibly metaphysics if you ask me.
The second ATM I used today, at my credit union, is even worse. At the CU, there are three lanes: two for drive-up banking with an actual person, and one for the ATM. The ATM lane is at such a sharp angle that it takes most people two tries to get their car aimed at the thing. I feel like Luke Skywalker skimming through the Deathstar when I drive into it and wish I had his firepower. That'd take care of those damned yellow posts, which are at this ATM also. (Note to self: Buy some stock in the company that makes yellow posts for drive-up banking lanes.)
I did get my banking done though and I really shouldn't complain. After all, I'm lucky to live in a world where I can bank on Sunday. Back when we went to Piggly Wiggly for groceries, banks were closed on Sunday and Saturday too. There were no ATMs or even drive-up tellers. You had to physically walk into a bank and interact with another human being to transact your business.
Of course, it was a lot easier to negotiate the walk from the parking lot to the bank, than it is to weave through these poorly designed cowpaths drive-up lanes. On the other hand, when you've sent out checks on Friday, and realize on Saturday that you wrote them on the bank account that has almost no money in it, instead of the credit union account, which you meant to write them on, it's nice to be able to bank on Sunday. And I'm sure the yellow paint will wear off my car - if not my tire iron - sooner or later.