Every time I set foot in the bank, some jaundiced teller tries to bully me into adopting direct deposit for my paychecks. "Just shut up and be grateful I'm bringing you my paychecks at all. Are you on commission? Don't answer that - I'm trying to sleep," I say. Then I shut my eyes and snore a little. Occasionally I admit that much of the work I do is illegal, and that I don't want to sabotage my income by drawing undue attention to my employer through direct banking schemes. Doesn't really matter what I tell the tellers, I suppose, as long as I always remember to place my pocket lint on the ATM for the fairies before I exit the premises.