Joke – Bank Cashier!


I went to a bank to make some transactions. You know that bank cashiers handle lots of cash from so many sources: some bank notes have been spat on, licked on, sneezed on, farted on, pooped on, marched on, and sweated on, and TB’ed on, and so on. All these notes are touched bare-handed by cashiers.

So, imagine to my deepest chagrin, as I was waiting on the line, I saw the cashier using her finger to clean out her two nostrils (nose toileting). Can you imagine! ‘She go still use that same hand shake person, abi!’ The sad thing was that she was a beautiful young lady. Those fingers are meant to go places; the least of which was her nostrils.

Imagine that you went to a bank. You were in the waiting line. The cashier is a stunningly beautiful lady. You were looking forward to a great time. Before you say Jack, Ekinne and Lawal, you see the cashier cutting her nails with her teeth. Amazingly sharp nail cutters. Childhood issues, abi?

Imagine you went to a bank. The cashier is also beautiful as always but she has sweety (severely pruritic skin lesions) in her inner thighs. In between customers, she puts her hands on her thighs and scratch away. Let’s say you are as tall as Shaquille O’Neal and as such your eyes can go places. Imagine walking towards that cashier with the expectation of having an experience of a life-time, only for you to find that the hands/fingers are so busy scratching, scratching and scratching. Worst of all imagine that lady offering her hands to give you a hand-shake. You wish you could have that hand-shake except that you can’t shake off from your mind where those hands/fingers have been.

Those hands were meant to go places; the problem is that those hands have already been to places.

©Dr Eugene’s Column

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