“Wait just one cotton-pickin’ minute!”

—“That’s a deposit, not a charge,” I said. “The account-balance increased $35.”
My first job long ago after college was a bank.
“Rules are made to be broken,” I was told.
I’m 75 years old, and had a stroke. But my checking-account better balance or they’ll be Hell to pay.
The $35 was apparently a correction by Eye-Care Center of Canandaigua. They charged me for something my insurance pays.
Clueless as usual, I let it slide.
Now it seems Eye-Care Center sees their mistake, and they’re crediting me.
I mistakenly entered a $35 Eye-Care charge to my account-record to agree with my bank, then deleted a $50 ($35 + $15 copay) charge by Eye-Care, thinking they charged me $35 instead of $50.
But still off. I started poking around. following the bank’s account-balance up through that $35. Everything agreed, but suddenly I realized the bank-balance was increasing $35 instead of decreasing.
My bank’s website makes deposits look like charges. The only indication it’s a deposit is lack of parentheses.
How about charges in red? It’s a website, dudes = get programming.
So in other words GOT IT! I’ve yet to have my bank make a mistake; it’s always me.
All I could think of is how a stroke-addled geezer would throw up his hands in exasperation. Or in my case, do a “contact-us” and drive my bank crazy.
In their favor, I really like my bank. They’ve never mucked up, and are understanding when I do a “contact-us.”
But that account better balance or they’ll be Hell to pay.
Eons ago a previous bank lost my Transit paycheck, then charged me their loss.
I went to the bank and did a grandstand. “I got a receipt! You better credit my account or I ain’t leavin’.”
That bank was replaced by a vastly expanded supermarket.

• Eye-Care Center was doing my annual eye checkup.
• I had a stroke October 26th, 1993 from an undiagnosed heart-defect since repaired. I pretty much recovered. Just tiny detriments; I can pass for never having had a stroke.
• “Transit” equals Regional Transit Service (RTS), the public transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY, where I drove bus for 16&1/2 years (1977-1993). My stroke ended that. I retired on medical-disability. I recovered well enough to return to work, but not driving bus.
• A “grandstand” is full-frontal dressing down of those in power. Loud enough to scatter customers.