Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Wild Midwest

Every now and then, I catch some flack for living in Nebraska. Usually it’s some comment about covered wagons and prairie dogs flipped my way any time I venture out of the state. I always have to defend Omaha by saying, “No, it’s really a city. Yes, there are paved roads.” And “No, it’s not the wild west.”

Today, Megan and I went to our bank and found the entrance taped off, cop cars out front and the drive-through lanes closed off. Was my bank robbed? Did I just miss seeing a bunch of gunmen storm out carrying bags of money with big dollar signs on them? Do I watch too many superhero cartoons? For all I know, somebody with a bad case of heat stroke wandered in to knock over the deposit slip racks or charge over the counter when the teller wouldn’t acknowledge they were there as they helped car after car in the outside lanes. If that’s the case, I feel for them. If it was a robbery, I’m just glad Megan and I hit the post office first. I like watching the horses thunder in from the east to drop off the new Sears Roebuck catalogs.

UPDATE -- News just came in that it WAS a bank robbery. I've already signed on for the posse.