Union Bank of the Snake

This morning the sun made everything so bright and sharp and warm looking, like an intense wash of sienna orange had been painted over everything except the sky, which was candy blue. After 6 months of wearing my damn winter coat I welcome today’s potential to be over 10 degrees Celsius.

Just now, while sending off a request for a bank to be opened in a system I work in, I could not resist breaking strict, no personality allowed protocol. The emails, I send are to some faceless person I will never meet. I don’t even know what city or country they are in. Don’t know how old they are, nothin’. I just request and they comply.

This particular time, I wrote to open an account for the Union Bank of country X (just so I don’t get it any trouble, I won’t mention entire names). ANYWAY. I, being the Duran Duran fan that I was and still am. Couldn’t help but think of their classic hit, Union of the Snake, of course. So, in the email title, where I usually just type the bank I am trying to open an account for, I put: Union Bank of the Snake. I had to. I even tried to erase it and put the proper name but had to put it back again. If the person at the other end is my age, maybe they will get it. If not, they will probably be very confused and need a confirmation email to clarify.
Sigh.

If only I could work at a place where I could for real, open accounts for the Union of the Snake Bank. And where people, handsome and funny people, would spontaneously come to my desk to quote lyrcis at me: "Oh Melissa, by the way, the union of the snake is on the climb. Apparently it's moving up and going to break for the borderline. Just thought you should know."

That would be great.