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  • Banking

    When I was in college, I worked at a bank. Not a bank, actually, it was a Credit Union. Because there's a really big difference. I made a decent wage (over double minimum wage) for a college student, but definitely not enough to change my life plans. Strangely, the president of the credit union kept trying to pass hints about me quitting college to work there and make a career out of it. I wasn't biting. There was no way I was quitting school to work there, and anyone that tried to convince me otherwise only managed to make me wonder what's wrong with them.

    After a while, the fact that I was a full time student and could only work weekends as a drive thru teller wasn't working out well for management. I would eventually find a better form of employment at the local golf course (making minimum wage, but with UNLIMITED FREE GOLF), from which I just may have a few stories...another day.

    However, before ending my career, I became good at it. After all, I was good with computers, good at math, and was coachable. I picked up quickly the proper way to count money, how to stick to a routine that would make me safe from mistakes, and was taught how to deal with people. The last part took the longest, and wasn't something that was always easy...

    . . .

    One day, a guy came in only wanting to make change. He asked for change, I gave him change. Then he asked for more change, and I did that as well, although I had to think about it because it didn't make sense that he would ask for denominations that he had just given me. I laughed because I was thinking how much easier it would have been if he told me what all he wanted the first time. But whatever, if it made him happy to do things in steps, so be it. Then he immediately asked again, and I was annoyed that he was rushing me while wasting more of my time, but I figured he could wait until I put the money away before making me take more out. I counted everything out twice, repeated the amounts before and after, maybe with a tinge of flair because I became annoyed. He seemed disappointed with my attitude and left. What no coins? Surely, I thought there would be nickels and dimes involved.

    After he left, my manager immediately came over and I was like "That was weird." He explained that the guy has shortchanged people before and he asked me to balance my drawer. It was the first and only time someone had tried this, so I wasn't prepared for it, and didn't even know what was happening. However, I counted everything out like I was trained so I don't see how it could be out of balance. He insisted of course, so he watched me count it out. He didn't seem surprised that I was right, it balanced out, but I suppose it was his job to make sure. I'm not sure if his tricks worked on my fellow coworkers in the past or not.

    . . .

    While working the drive thru one weekend, I enraged one of our customers who sent the tube in with only a note that had an account# and "withdraw $200" on it. I didn't know him, so I asked for his ID. He then started to give me his SSN (as some tellers allow if they recognize someone enough to know they have an account), but I wasn't going to let it fly because I wasn't comfortable with it. He then lost his shit and started yelling at me, to which I just muted him and sat there with a poker face. Although being dealt this hand, I might have had a bit of a Phil Hellmuth grin of annoyance creeping up the side of my face. After a while he pressed the call button, so I took him off mute and got another earful. I simply told him I won't give him anything without ID, that's our policy.

    I called my manager over because I didn't feel like dealing with this guy. However, when my manager came over, the guy refused to talk to him. He wanted ME. Ugh. So I get back on the mic and said "Look, sir. I see a lot of people working here and I do know some faces better than others. There are some people that I know their actual names before I look at their ID. There are too many people that I see and I just can't remember everyone. If I don't know you, and I ask for your ID, then that's how it has to be." The guy said once again how often he comes here blah blah, and I said "I'm sorry sir, I don't recognize you," then I hit the button to send the tube back to him. He finally pulled out his ID and sent it in.

    After he left, my manager said "If you ever need a letter of recommendation, you just let me know!"

    . . .

    One day an elder gentleman named Carl withdrew $200 from his account. I counted out his money to him, and he thanked me kindly and was on his way. Two minutes later he came back less polite, and said that I shorted him $20. I told him that I counted it out right in front of him and that I was certain I gave him $200. He became angry, raised his voice, and had me count out the money he was holding. It was $180. He asked for my manager, who came over and learned what transpired. Everyone makes mistakes, so it was possible that he was right. I counted out my drawer, and it balanced out. Then my manager was asked to count out the money, which he did. Again, it balanced out. Minutes later the gentleman had walked out, quite displeased, and was approached by the next person in line who found a $20 bill laying on the floor where he was standing. Then elder gentleman came back and apologized to me and asked that I forgive an old man. I said "No problem," but I remembered him every time he came in after that day, and even though he was extra kind to me, I never forgot what money can do to people.
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