Jane calls the branch frequently with her banking problems. We have Caller ID, and when we see “Sykes, Jane” on the phone, everybody suddenly gets very busy with whatever they are doing. As a result, I am frequently stuck dealing with her (“shot not,” and all that).
I received a call from Jane that went thusly:
RB: “Thank you for calling Fiscal United Bank, this is your Relationship Banker speaking, how can I help you?”
JS: “This is Jane Sykes. I have been a client of your bank for thirty five years. I need to speak to you about something.”
RB: “Of course, how can I assist you?”
JS: “The bastards are breaking into my house.”
RB: “Uh…… you mean right now?”
JS: “No, at night! They always break into my house, and you know what? They are trying to kill my cats!”
After a few minutes of listening to Jane’s detailed incident report (including a declined request for me to come over and change her locks), she seemed to lose her steam. Attempting to not sound dismissive, I suggested that she call a locksmith to make sure her locks were adequate to prevent break ins. She thanked me for that, and thus was forged the bond that could not be shattered (despite my best attempts).
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.
