From Our Readers Adventures in Becoming an Adult: Depositing a Check From Our Readers

This past year has gone by way too fast. Actually, the past nineteen years have gone by way too fast. It seems like just yesterday I was running around on a playground and playing with Barbies. As a matter of fact, it was just yesterday. But now I must grow up. In a matter of weeks I will be 20 years old and it will be time to leave my teenage years behind.

The problem with this is that I am not ready to be an adult. I’m the baby of my family. I’m spoiled! I’ll admit it. I was raised to be super self-sufficient but sometimes a girl just needs her parents. I just happen to be a girl that needs her parents for anything that seems adult. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for my parents, I need to learn to do these things by myself. So I’m embarking on a mission. It’s starts today but it will go on for the rest of my life. I, Chelsey Falco, am going to become an adult.

I never had to deposit a check before. I was either under sixteen and unable to take myself to the bank or my mom was working at the bank and just did it for me. That all changed this summer. Due to some stupid rule about direct deposit not kicking in for two pay periods, I had two paychecks sitting on my desk. I didn’t know what to do with them. After a couple of weeks, I asked my mom. She looked at me like I was a total idiot for not knowing how to deposit a check. She took out my checkbook and showed me some page in the back. Now, I’m not the best listener, but I’m pretty sure she said, “Sign here. Blah, blah, sign the blah blah check. Blah.” She was pointing at a ton of things and saying “blah” instead of actual words.

Needless to say, another week had passed and I still hadn’t deposited those checks. I went to my mom again. She’s a financial advisor, so she had to help me. It’s her job! I asked her what all those boxes on the deposit slip meant. I just wanted to know what I was getting myself into. She kept sighing and telling me the little boxes meant nothing but I didn’t believe her. Somehow this lesson in depositing a check ended with a lot of yelling and me running up to my room to cry (I said I was trying to become an adult, not that I was one!).

We tried the lesson again the next day. My mom assured me I did not need those little boxes and I chose to believe her this time. Then she watched as I filled out the slip. She double-checked my math when I added the checks together and she told me exactly what to do the next day when I went to the bank. She reassured me that if I went to the drive through, the tellers would not try to talk to me (conversations with strangers frighten me).

Finally, after almost a month, I was at the drive through of my bank. I drove up to the window and took the little box out of the vacuum machine that takes the checks into the bank. I placed my checks and deposit slip into the box and placed it back into the vacuum. That’s where I got confused. I pushed the box to the end of the machine like my dad taught me to do earlier in the summer. Nothing happened. I inspected the machine. There was a faded button that said “send.” Was I supposed to push it? Yes, that made sense. So I pushed it and was relieved to see the box go through the machine and into the bank.

Or at least I thought it got into the bank. Five minutes had passed and I heard nothing. The box did not come back out of the vacuum. I was panicking. I thought I messed up! Seven minutes after I sent in my checks, a woman came to the window. “Just one second,” she said.

A minute later the box came back out, and I reached in to get my receipt. I was about to drive away when the woman came back to the window. “Are you related to Marilee?” She asked.

I was so close to getting out of there. “Yeah, she’s my mom,” I said in my trademarked awkward voice.

The woman smiled. “It’s nice to meet you! Where is she working now?”

Oh no. This is awful to admit, but I don’t know where my mom works. She got a new job while I was away at school, and I never got the details. “Um, I’m not sure,” I admitted.

“Oh, well, tell her we miss her!” She waved as I put my car into drive and got out of there.

The first part of my mission to adulthood was over, and I completed it semi-successfully with minimal tears.

by Chelsey Falco

Sponsored by: Keeping it Cla$$y

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  1. Oh man, the first time I had to deposit a check, I went up to the teller and said, “This is my first time, I am so sorry.” And she was really nice and walked me through the whole thing.

    Next step: depositing without having to ask the tellers for assistance. HAHA.

  2. I can COMPLETELY relate to this. In fact, I have a check I need to deposit but I have been avoiding it because I can’t find my deposit slips, which means I have to go INSIDE the bank to deposit it, and then fill out my account number, which I always mess up, and it’s super stressful and I really can’t handle it.

    Becca Sands | 8/19/2011 05:08 am
  3. This sounds like me :)