X’s & Imbalances

An intentional typœ of checks and balances.

A classic form of control ushered through banking. Places where arbitrary authority is welcomed by the rigor mortis embrace of mechanical heat transfer.

The first time I ever wrote cheques, a few typographical errors were finessed. If the copacetic corporations expect perfection, they should allow the faded impression of lead from a No. 2 pencil. Instead, I had no qualms about striking through the account number I inked with my trusty Pilot G-2.

Would you rather have no strikethroughs and other blemishes with blatant evidence of illiteracy, or would you rather attention to detail was ushered to ensure the accuracy of information, making the arduous filing process easier for your underpaid secretary?

In the lazing cow’s position, I would betray no loss of face or jowl. Efficiency should be top priority and singular interest. Who cares if the cheque is rife with scribbles and/or formatted differently?

All that should be of due concern is the fact that the information is written legibly with clarity of penmanship and aligned values.

But, no.

The owed amount, in written form, must only include the dollars. Accordingly, the cents are represented by an elongated, if not eloquent, dash, depicting the ellipses, followed by the cents being retained, numerically, as a fraction of one hundred, or a dollar.

It should be common knowledge, if not common practice, that learning involves mistakes.

Dare say, necessitating.

Thereby, I immediately understood copywriting only the last four digits of the 12-digit account number. Accordingly, I rectified the “error” of writing out both dollars and cents when only dollars were arbitrarily mandated for written formatting.

Transferring the information to a ledger involves applying the four-digit number at the top-right of the blank check in the first slot of every row.

Simple.

Professional moron or gifted amateur?

Fit the bill to fill the bill.