Today marks the end of the Casual Friday Era, and I, for one, am devastated. It was so liberating to go to work wearing nothing but a tee-shirt (and pants, of course). I don't think we should go to a full casual environment (we'll leave that to WaMu and their ilk) but it makes for a nice change of pace.
What befuddles me is that there are people out there that wrinkle their noses at us when they see us in tee-shirts or polos. "I like you in suits," they say, as if how we are dressed has ANY impact on our ability to do our job. One of these same customers actually complained because we weren't open on this 4th of July, which was on a Friday.
"It's a banking day," she whined.
"It's a holiday," a teller repied.
"It's a banking day," she whined again.
"It's a National Holiday," the teller replied.
"It's a banking day," she whined a third time.
"It's the birthday of our country and every bank and government organization gets it off," the teller said.
"It's a banking day," she whined yet again.
At this point, we realized she was completely self-absorbed and incapable of understanding even basic human needs, and ended the conversation. I would like to know where these people work and visit them at their jobs and tell them I like them better wearing tuxedos and evening gowns. But then again, half the customers who complain about this are elderly retired folk.
Fare thee well, Fiscal United tee-shirt. We've only known each other a short time, but it was a wonderful affair while it lasted.
I went to school for Fine Arts. I'm an accomplished sketch artist, painter, photographer, writer, and designer. I'm gruff, rough, and kinda tough. So how the HELL did I end up working at Fiscal United Bank? The following stories are all true accounts of the day to day insanity that I have encountered as a representative of Fiscal United Bank. Only the names and minor details have been changed to protect... well, to protect me from litigation, frankly.
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