My mother was looking for a bank.  We went back to the cashier where we just had been, the worker like the college tour guide.  My mother was missing 300 bucks.  The woman standing next to the pillar where we parked the car had been behind us in line originally.  We decided she had picked up $240.  My mother made a snide comment to her about being happy.  My maternal Grandma Jane said she should have said something about being Swedish.  We went back, and the money wasn't there, of course.  We drove off, and my mother and Grandma Jane both started humming some Ray Lynch song, and then started laughing.