LIFE: The New Teller

I actually like my bank. But no bank is perfect.

Left the cave today due to a need to fill some prescriptions, collect some cheques and deposit said cheques into my account to pay some forthcoming bills. I wondered into the bank mid to late afternoon to see a moderately-sized line and only one familiar teller doing business. Unfortunately, the vagaries of chance denied me the familiar, as one of the newbies further on down the row beckoned me over.

I had two cheques totaling a few thousand dollars. I wanted to deposit most of the money, keeping out a few hundred for February operating expenses. I was headed from the bank to pay my communications bills, pick up the medicine I needed and to restock the larder. "I want to deposit all of this but for XXXX dollars."

Like all nice new tellers, she then took forever to process this complicated request. I had to even tell her that I needed to sign the cheques since I would be receiving money back from them. She smiled, probably thanking whoever she thanks, that she had a nice patient customer who actually knew more about her job than she did. I watched her poke at the keyboard. At one point, she took the cheques and the money-back slip over to the experienced teller. She pointed at me and I grinned back as she got affirmation from her fellow worker that I indeed, banked here and frequently deposited and took back sizable sums of money. She came back and then asked me a disappointing question.

"How much did you want to take out?"

Internally, the pressure sensor hit explode. But I quickly realized I had forgotten to be VERY explicit with the young lady. "No, you were supposed to make one transaction, just the amount I wanted deposited from the cheques. If you do it the way you obviously have, then it's two transactions and I get charged a buck per transaction."

The look of panic on her face was quite real. Looking for experienced help was fruitless. The experienced one was in the vault. She leaned over and asked another pup for some help (pup-perpetually uninformed personnel). He looked and acted about two days more experienced. I silently laughed as he 'took over,' and informed me that it was too late to do what I wanted now, but that he would "personally" see to it that the service charge would be reversed in two days time, when the month-end charges would be applied. "Automatically or manually?" I asked, knowing the answer.

He didn't. Off he went to find out. "Next time you're in, just see me or the lady here and we will take care of it." Sure. By the time I come in next, there will be two more pups awaiting me.

I'll throw away a hundred bucks on bridge books at a tournament and not think twice about it. My bank, already one of the half-dozen richest corporations in the country, tries to stiff me for a buck, I take umbrage. I will lose sleep on the night of January 31/February 1. Bright and early on Friday morning, I will be calling the bank demanding the charge be reversed. It's the principle of the thing.

And the next time I see pups at the teller window, I'll START with the education. And probably a smile.