THE MASKED BANDIT

Post-corona, I and about 200 people went to a certain Bank to make some transactions in the drizzling rain. I know this, because I was number 193😭 by 9am in the morning.

Suffice it to say, I almost had a minor heart attack when I saw my number. But I was a woman on a mission; that transaction needed to be done.

My stomach growled repeatedly as I stood beneath the dripping rain and my phone kept ringing incessantly with calls from people I needed to meet with.

I braved the elements and returned to my office for two quick meetings and a healthy snack.

Once I was done, a quick glance at my clock showed the time had moved on to 11:39am.

I returned to the bank only to discover they were still at number 131.

Ninety minutes later, when I could have sworn I could feel the beginnings of a k-leg coming on from so much standing, I finally got into the banking hall, mask firmly in place.

The bank guy was the preppy, happy sort. He deftly carried out my instructions but just before he clicked the final key on his system, he threw me a glance and his fingers were arrested over the keyboard.

"Sorry please could you take off your mask for a tiny minute?"

"Why?"  I asked, even though I thought I knew why. I had seen people turned away at the entrance of the very same bank for not wearing a mask. Why did he want me to take mine off? I wasn't going to assume I knew the reason.

"I need to verify your identity."

I swallowed a shout of laughter as I meekly obliged.

Corona is a game changer. A year ago if you had so much as LOOKED at a bank whilst wearing a mask, you would have been cuffed and arrested so fast it would make your ancestors dizzy.

But now, you NEED  a mask to enter the bank. Then of course you need to take it off and smile for the cameras so in case the masked bandit isn't you, they can verify your identity or probably have a face to show the cops on cctv.

Corona is a high-maintenance, drama queen. Smh.

Sherina Okoye (2020)