You don’t really think about your bank, do you? I imagine an edifice somewhere downtown that emits a faint whir, a ticking and beeping as it tots up the interest I owe it. People may or may not be involved; I don’t care one way or the other.

In these dogged dog-eat-dog days, it’s probably for the good that our banks stay invisible. It’s when they come knocking that we have to worry. 

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