Neither of which, I assure you, was true.
I soldiered bravely onward to the bank, where I was delayed for some time in the teller line due to the fact that the elderly couple at the window in front of me had apparently never made a counter deposit in their lives. They seemed to be utterly baffled by the strange technology known as a "deposit slip", and the teller was trying to work with them with a combination of social grace and obviously mounting frustration. Now, I'm used to the fact that a significant number of people in airports have apparently never flown and aren't familiar with the procedures for security, boarding, where seats are on a plane, etc. (Though I confess I do find even that puzzling.) I'm used to the fact that a certain number of people who enter fast food restaurants seem to have never been to one before, as the idea of "cheese" on a "hamburger" can engender long discussions and peering at a menu written in a speaking vocabulary of 40 words or so. But I am profoundly amazed that anyone can have passed through multiple decades of adulthood, dress as if they were middle class (ie, not homeless or poverty stricken or otherwise unlikely to be a regular banking customer), and not know how to fill out a deposit slip.
Live and learn.
On a final note, my toaster oven seems to have recovered from its incendiary experience of this morning, save for some soot streaks on the door glass and the upper part of the casing which I could not scrub off.
Don't forget Malapropism Monday, my latest lj game, as well as Christmas Cheese Blogging, if you didn't catch it the other day.