Where The Money Is

I can’t be the only one who thinks about robbing banks.  Not with any actual intent, of course, but money’s as tight for me as it is for everyone else these days, and under those circumstances one can’t help but think that a vault full of cash would go a long way toward easing the ol’ financial stress.

So on those rare occasions when I actually enter a bank and am standing in line, inhaling that heady scent produced by proximity to large amounts of negotiable currency, I often find myself pondering methods by which I might theoretically help myself to the largess within.  I study the bank layout, and the cameras, and the vault doors, and the exits, and a plan begins to form…

And then it is my turn and I step up to the counter to be confronted by a Scary Bank Lady who hisses at me and I immediately lose my nerve.  I would be a terrible bank robber.

Besides, I always get too fancy.  My plans are always late-neight heists involving complex deactivation of alarm systems, blacked-out windows, and tunnels through the vault walls.  You know, the kind of heists that you always see in movies, and yet a quick Google search shows that very very few people have ever actually done such a thing.  In fact, the only even halfway recent vault robbery I could actually find in the news involved nothing more than a crooked bank manager strolling in after hours and stuffing wads of greenbacks into their underpants.  Hardly a setting for The Italian Job.

Even when I do see complex fictional heists portrayed, such as in the Ocean movies, I cannot help but notice that the specialized equipment used in the process almost certainly cost more than the sum total of the eventual loot.  I am reluctantly forced to conclude that the brutal, unimaginative armed assault technique being initiated here on this page does likely have the highest payout per invested capital; especially since these are obviously not high-grade henchmen.  But if all one is going to collect is a few grand, which is what usually happens, it’s probably safer just to work for a living.

I still wouldn’t mind a vault full of money, though.  You can keep your bearer bonds and Bitcoins and electronic bank balances.  Gimme big ol’ stacks of cash any day.  I may or may not choose to stuff them into my underpants.

Along those lines, I should perhaps mention that the artist of this particular comic had, as his childhood hero, none other than Scrooge McDuck.  And this artist, as a boy, used to carefully save up his allowance and birthday money, convert it all into one-dollar bills, scatter them on the floor, and roll in them. His mother and I used to wonder why we kept finding rumpled money on his bedroom floor until one day we caught him at it.  There’s worse things, I suppose.  In any case, it could indicate that this fondness for physical fundage has a genetic basis.

(Insert your own “come into money” joke here.)

Bob out.