“Next in line please,” the banking agent says, waving me forward as the old lady steps away from the counter. I hurriedly walk up to the counter.

“I’d like to withdraw $300 from my account, please,” I say. “I’m in a hurry,” I add. I hoping the woman will speed up. I falter as she gives me an annoyed look. I stick my ID and bank account papers out, holding them in front of her. The woman takes them, seemingly frustrated. I give a half-apologetic smile before she begins typing on her computer. I look down at my watch, noting the time: 5:22 pm. It lingers in my mind as I look back up. 

The woman sighs, “Sir? I’ll need your account password. It looks like I will also need your social security card,” she says, looking at me impatiently now as I scurry to hand them to her.

I impetuously shove the paper and card into her outstretched hand, immediately regretting my decision.

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be rude,” I spit out quickly, in hopes she’ll be forgiving. She gives a seemingly sarcastic, seemingly annoyed smile at me before looking back down and typing away on her computer again. I look back down at my watch: 5:56. I look back up and hear a ding, then paper rustling. She hands me back my ID, social security card, and two papers of my banking account information. Then I watch as she reaches behind her, grabs $300 in cash, and hands it to me. I thank her sincerely, rushing and shoving my papers and two cards into my backpack before grabbing the cash and running towards the bank doors. I shove the $300 into my pocket.

The cold evening air hits my face as I rush to the crosswalk. I press the button and wait impatiently for the cars to stop moving. My watch reads “5:59” as the cars all stop. I run across, rushing to the store doors and pushing them open. There is only one person left in line, waiting for their new phone. I wait impatiently behind the person, watching as the person in front of me also waits impatiently. The young teen boy behind the counter looks tired and ready to leave. His coworkers don’t look any different from him. The man in front of me starts getting huffy, agitated that they are taking too long. I pull my cash out from my pocket, my hands brushing against my old phone. 

“How hard is it to retrieve a phone? Are you that stupid at your job?” yells the man in front of me. I look towards the young teen, seemingly not fazed by the man’s words. A short, hyper, teenage girl appears from the back with a smile.

“Here’s that phone, sir. We are so sorry for the wait,” says the teenage girl. Her smile drives the older man out of proportion as he snatches the phone, huffing his way out of the store while cursing at the teenagers under his breath. 

I approach the counter without saying a word, smiling at the two teenagers and handing them my cash. The teenage girl begins reaching for my money before getting stopped by the boy. Confusion crosses my expression as I look towards the boy.

“I’ll give it to you for free if you go trip that greedy man outside and make him break his new phone,” says the boy quietly. I laugh before nodding.

“Seems reasonable,” I say with another chuckle as the two teenagers smile at me. The teenage girl hands me the phone, thanking me and wishing me a good rest of my day. 

Walking out of the phone store, I shove my cash back into my backpack and zip it up. Spotting the man talking on his new phone, I run towards him. My body collides into his, and he falls to the ground, his brand-new phone flying into the middle of the street. I begin hastily walking away, glancing back in satisfaction as I see his phone getting run over and over and over…