[QoTW]A Boy with A Dream

Every child goes through that phase, where they “already” know what they want to do when they grow up.
Astronaut,police officer,doctor, very basic ones.

When I was a young boy, I too,had a dream. I wanted to a banker SO BAD!
The thought of being in a place where money is kept just brought joy and excitement into my head.

I was bent on working for RBC, which is Canada’s largest bank I believe:

Yeah boy I was aiming straight for the top, CEO position.

My obsession progressed when I started going to the bank with my mom every chance I could. And at the time, there were little brochures talking about having careers there at RBC. It was an answer to me prayers, here I am,some 10-year old kid, and I’m about to become CEO of a HUGE bank!
I took a brochure and the receptionist there noticed me. “We have paper you can draw on if you want!”

Her ignorance irritated me. I would not like to DRAW, I want to WORK.
“No matter.” My 10 year old brain somehow thought. “Soon I will be her boss. And she will bow and beg for forgiveness.”

When I returned to my lair (my room), I thought about how I would apply. There were so many words on this paper, it made it a little confusing to read. Then the solution hit me like a freight train.

I grabbed one of my markers and wrote “ME!” on the back of the brochure. If they didn’t know I wanted a job, they do now.

I folded up the paper and put it into my pocket.

The next trip to the bank meant a lot to me. I was standing in line for the ATM with my mom when I remembered I have something important to do.
I let go of her hand and walked over to the receptionist. Pulling out the brochure I proudly said. “CAN I PLEASE WORK HERE?!” Then I slammed the brochure on the table.

The receptionist looked down at the paper, then up at me, then back at the paper again. She lifted it up and saw in big letters “ME!”
She laughed and handed me the paper. “Aren’t you a little young to be thinking about a job?”

Young? YOUNG? I’M 10 YEARS OLD! My face started to heat up. I opened my mouth to retaliate but by now my mother had come to see what trouble I got myself into.
After trying to plead my case, they both made it clear to me that I would not be employed there until I went to various schools.

“How long does that take?” I asked.
“Years. Many years.” My mom replied.

I was crushed. My dream was ruined. I started to cry.

As we were leaving, I turned back and looked at the RBC bank, I swore to tell all my friends at school how EVIL this place is, dreams were just fictional scenarios, and there was no point in chasing your dreams like everyone says you should.

Years later, when I turned 15, I went back to that SAME RBC. And opened up a bank account. Walking by that desk again, I noticed some papers on it. It was a brochure, inviting everyone to apply for a job at RBC.

I smiled and grabbed one.

~Nass