I Can Bank on It

I'm home after spending two hours in detention at the police station this morning. Why? Because of what I do every year or two on April 1st, and on which I've reported in a previous blog:

I enter a different branch of my bank wearing a long raincoat with its collar up, a hat, and sunglasses, and carrying a bag. I choose a woman teller, preferably a bleached blond, and approach her counter. Placing my bag on her counter in front of her, I silently give her a note. She nervously reads the note which always says, "Quick! Take all the money from my bag, and put it into your bank!" And it's always just a matter of seconds before the frightened teller sounds the alarm.