You have got to be shitting me.
Dateline: December 30, 2006
Long Island - Tommy (my dear brother and partner in crime) is in my passenger seat as we prepare to leave WalMart in Riverhead. We sit, first in line at the light, waiting for it to change. As the Westbound turn lane signal goes red, a truck tries to squeeze through, at which point it is struck by an east bound car. The back of the truck gets spun around into the front of my poor, dear Gretchen (my Jetta). Airbags deploy, and my brother emerges from his second accident in 78 hours. This time, it is I who was immobilized by emergency responders. A few hours later, I leave the hospital with a bruised sternum, a sore back, aches, and a very grateful family.
I went to school for Fine Arts. I'm an accomplished sketch artist, painter, photographer, writer, and designer. I'm gruff, rough, and kinda tough. So how the HELL did I end up working at Fiscal United Bank? The following stories are all true accounts of the day to day insanity that I have encountered as a representative of Fiscal United Bank. Only the names and minor details have been changed to protect... well, to protect me from litigation, frankly.
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