Money, money, money!

“.. I need to get my cheque liquidated today! I have no clue when I’d get the next one..”
I promptly walked into the Citibank office near work at about 9.25 AM. The chill of the aircon was a welcome change from the humidity outside. I punched in my queuing details- 2003, I was branded. The wait was not long.

9.30 AM

I walked up to the wrong counter, only to be directed towards an adjacent staff. A demure woman, of 25 and not more. A trainee.

“How may I help you, sir?”

“Erm.. so I needed cash. Here’s my cheque.”

“Can, can.” She looked at the cheque hard and long. “Five thousand dollars? Can sign at back?”

“Yes, of course” I scribbled my name at the back with green ink. “Here you go!”

“Thank you. Also Employment Pass can?”

“This for you as well.” I smiled as I passed on my Training Employment Pass to her.

9.50 AM

She was still figuring out her way around the system. Vacillating between the TEP, the computer and my cheque, she was having a tough time figuring out what to do. Trainees, tsk.

“I have a meeting at 10, so could you please hasten the process?” I nudged.

“I am sorry.” She hurried, and consulted her colleagues about something.

She came back pleased, “What denominations do you want?”

“Hmm.. give me twenty 50 dollar bills, ten of 100 dollars, and three one thousands. Can?” I tried my best to make her understand. ‘Sing’lish pleases every local here.

‘Can, can sir!” She was ecstatic.

In the meanwhile, I was looking out on to the streets. SMRT route 970 to Shenton Way. I would miss this lifestyle- very unreal, but every breath is a mixture of hope, despair, aspirations and broken dreams. Every breath is a reality here.

I was interjected in my stream of consciousness, “Here you go, sir.”

“Uh.. oh! Thanks!”

10.05 AM

I was leaving, and not being the one to check whether all the bills are proper, I was about to move on when for some vague reason, I just peeped inside the envelope.

I froze.

I went back to her and inquired, “How much cash have you given me?”

“Five thousand dollars, sir!” She beamed.

“Please check again.”

She was crestfallen. “I am so sorry sir, I.. I..” She giggled. Her colleagues were starting at her, and she was indescribably embarrassed.

“That’s okay. But you must be careful, right? You don’t want to jeopardize your life by passing on thirty 1000 dollar bills instead of three, yah?”

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For about good 5 minutes, I was holding 32,000 Singapore dollars in my hand- and on record, only 5. That's a lot of money, profanely so.

Surprisingly, the packet did not weigh a lot. My conscience did.