Dear
Teller with the green and blue tie at Key Bank on 45th St. in
Wallingford (name unknown),
Hi
and how are things these days? You may or may not remember me, but you have
been on my mind since I steamed out of the bank on October 25th, my
deposit of $546.27 in 3 separate checks left at your station. I was
late, my fault not yours. You said that it was only your 2nd
day there, but understand, I
had found myself faced with an empty carton of almond milk upon that morning, worn
some especially scratchy socks, and it was the 6th time in a row over
the past month that I tried to make a deposit at one of your branches where the machine had broken down, the
computer had misread a
check or
someone’s human hands had punched in inaccurate numbers elongating my time at the window by at least 74 extra seconds
with tellers on Brooklyn Avenue, on
34th St, and yes, also others at your 45th St. branch, I’m afraid to
say. FYI - you are not the only employee there who has appeared mystified
by the process of
depositing checks. I was in a kind of huff not to be tempered
and clearly didn't have time to linger at
your window.
You
smiled weakly as my checks ran rounds in the check machine, ignored by the bank
system and you had to call the supervisor over as I audibly breathed my
disgruntlement and grand disappointment with another less than perfect banking
experience at your institution, knowing you’d likely had no more
than 20 transactions with customers over the past 48 hours.
“How
was your 2nd day at work, honey?” I imagined your spouse
inquiring when you made your way home that day. And I could hear you
sigh as you reported on the easily irked female customer, in a red sweater,
fondling her car keys like worry beads at the counter, tapping her inpatient
fingers on the counter and rolling her eyes as you struggled to punch check
numbers into the computer. I apologize. I didn’t
offer my usual smile of compassion and understanding nor did I warmly chirp
“Oh, no problem it’s your 2nd day! Don’t
worry about it”, like someone who practices yoga and listens to Pema
Chodran tapes should have done. I’m
sorry. I’m not usually like that, I swear. You caught me
on a bad day, feet itching, belly full of…gasp… rice milk, and at my wit’s end
with Key Bank. Do you like working there?
Your
supervisor was very friendly, by the way, despite my icy “I’m tolerating this”
kind of non-expression. Did she admonish you at
all? Did she say anything about me? Did the other tellers
look upon you with disdain? With empathy? I doubt
I’m the first customer who huffed and puffed her way through someone’s first or
second day at work. Thank you for offering me a tootsie roll. It was
a nice gesture, even though it would have likely pulled out my dental fillings.
I haven't been back to your branch; you might realize I have
been avoiding it as I know I'd be seen as the woman who
ruined your first week on the job. I'd
have to face the guilt I'd feel as you'd speedily whip through my deposit in less than 45 seconds now,
hand me my cash
back with
a sparkle in your eye and a confident spring in your smile, afforded by 3 additional weeks on the job. You might not have asked me for
my ID this time since you could easily identify me as “that impatient, unfeeling,
un-lady like lady who couldn’t get out of her own little super important world that
sunny day on Oct 25th”.
Please
know that I have been extra nice over the past month to all the other tellers
with whom I’ve interchanged, both from Key Bank and at the other bank I
frequent, Alaska USA. Yes, I do use another bank for my
personal account and, to be truthful, really only joined Key Bank because I got
$250 dollars to open a business account and I can’t refuse free
cash. You might be interested to know that they were offering
Starburst at Alaska USA, so you’re on equal footing in your attempts to
increase my visits to the dentist.
But
I digress. I hope you’ll accept my apology and that your days at the bank have
been free from computer mishaps and irritable depositors.
I’ll
probably see you soon, provided you are still employed there, (you didn’t get
fired, did you?) as I have a wad of checks that need
depositing. I’ll be sure to iron the wrinkles out of them so we
don’t run into a similar situation when I return to your branch.
My
best to you and your family who may still be cursing my name.
Mary
Purdy
No comments:
Post a Comment