PERFECT SCHEMES LEAD TO SHATTERED DREAMS
Case in point: Our credit union advertised for weeks that because of the success of the credit union in 2011, a special gift would be given to the first 500 members who were in line New Years Eve. The gifts were to be awarded at midnight.
Like so many others, I braved a cold blowing rain and was in line at 6:17pm. In fact, I was 7th in line. Speculation was rampant as to what the gift might be. A Gold Coin? A Trip to Disney World? Season Tickets to OU Football games? Maybe a year’s worth of free gas? A laptop computer? The longer we were in line the bigger the gifts became. One WAG, who recently had his 1989 Olds REPOed by the credit union, was sure we were all to be given new cars (ala Oprah).
The speculation and merriment stopped around 8:30pm. Several members couldn’t take it any longer and went home. We had to call 911 REACT Emergency to haul off to the ER about 25 members who had not dressed properly and were suffering acute hypothermia. As members dropped out of line, all behind them cheered as they moved up.
Earlier smiles turned to tightly pressed lips in an effort to control chattering teeth. Even though I am a Southern Baptist , I couldn’t help but to start dancing in a vain attempt to keep warm. Some thought I was a Native American doing a stop raining dance!
At 10pm, all talk of gifts had ceased. Survival was now a contest of wills. Some members standing near me tore unused deposit slips from their credit union checkbook and hastily penned make shift Wills. A few started repeating the Lord’s Prayer and the 23rd Psalm. Some broke out into singing “Amazing Grace.” The un-churched members sang a medley of CW songs: “I got friends in low places,” “The night the bottle let me down,” and “Okie from Muskogee.” The mixture of off tune religious and CW hits sounded a lot like hogs who just lost their gender!
I looked at my Casio so many times I was certain it was broken. Some members began to confess sin and unlawful behavior to total strangers. The long line which stretched down the sidewalk from the credit union and disappeared after making a sharp right turn, became suddenly silent as the credit union manager arrived in his new Lexus and hastily entered the building and turned on the lights. It was now 11:47pm.
Almost immediately, a Wells Fargo armored truck pulled up and parked at the rear entrance of the credit union and started unloading its contents. The prophecy of Gold Coins was beginning to look better all the time.
Just when you thought this cold, weird night was about over, things quickly picked up speed but lost altitude! An unscheduled Bud delivery truck slowed to see what was going on. He was on his way to an all night convenience store—Bad Mistake!
The frightened driver was pulled from his truck and the door keys quickly pilfered from his pocket. The back door was raised as if by magic and many, many suitcases of beer disappeared. I saw a group of card carrying, Medicare users who were old, blue haired widows chugging beer for the very first time. Tee- totalers tossed morality aside in favor of surviving. The popping of pull tabs resembled a pond full of bull frogs all with COPD!
Out of nowhere six black and whites, sirens blaring, wig wag lights dancing, slid to a controlled stop. It reminded me of the Lucky Lee Lott Dare Devil drivers in the 1950’s. They exited with 9mm’s drawn. Silence returned and the Bud driver completed a report but could not ID any of the thieves. He went on his way to the all night convenience store.
One officer got on his PA and ordered everyone to disperse. No way! We had spent several hours trying to stay alive and big prizes were just around the corner. Many beer cans pelted the police cars. Most of the can throwers had never been in trouble with the law but merely wanted to get arrested just to get into the back seat of a warm cruiser.
I looked again at my $16 Wal-Mart watch and saw it was 11:58pm. The line had shrunk and now seemed to compress like a new Slinky. Members were directed to march past the drive-in window to get our prizes. I was now third in line.
There are jokes; silly jokes; bad jokes; practical jokes and even cruel jokes. What happened next was off the joke seismograph. The first two members were speechless as they were greeted by the manager and given a can of black-eyed peas! I saw what was going down and yelled as loud as I could that the prize was a can of black-eyed peas! One obvious high school dropout just behind me yelled, “This ain’t no credit union; it’s a discredit union. We’ve been “dissed”! The chant started low and slow: “Discredit, Discredit, Discredit.”
The police could see this unruly crowd was just 17 seconds from becoming a dangerous mob. Several warning shots were fired into the air and more sirens in the distance could be heard approaching the credit union. The manager was forced to seek safety in the Wells Fargo truck which fortunately had remained at the credit union. The members ran in all directions. The police cars formed a safety escort for the truck.
On my way to my car I met a little old lady from the nearby low rent apartment complex pushing a rusty, squeaky shopping cart. I asked her where she was going so late. She said, “This is a dream come true; there must be 500 empty beer cans just waiting for me to pick up. Gosh, I’ll have enough money to pay next month’s rent.” A sharp pang of guilt nearly decked me. I was there for greed, she there for need.
As we parted, she said in a cheery and grateful voice, “Happy New Year mister and God BlessYou.” My frozen face and half frozen heart could only reply “Same to you”. I guess I left my handkerchief in the car.
Note: Black-eyed peas, cornbread, and mustard greens are a tradional Oklahoma New Years Dinner. The credit union did pass out the cans about Christmas time. Everything else in this Post is a product of my imagination and is pure fiction. Sure hope you liked it.
Glenn C. Peck
