Training Daze

OK, so I went from being a Teller to being a Relationship Banker in February. When I asked when I get to go to RB training, I was told that there was no training yet, as Fiscal United Bank hadn't anticipated promotions so close to the conversion. I was to get on the job training, or as I like to call it, "Too Many Chefs." I know four different ways to do things, and none of them end up being right, because I was taught while everyone else was learning the new computer system. I know how to make the computer do stuff, but I don't know the reasons behind half of the stuff I do on a regular basis. I have been asking for months when I could go to training.

Today, the manager announced that one of our tellers was being promoted to fill the too long vacant head teller position, and the other candidate being passed over would be sent to RB training in the near future. I have a real problem with this. I have been begging to go to training for the entire time I have been in the position, because I feel I would be more independent and effective at my job if I had guidance from a trained professional rather than co-workers who don't even understand how to do their own jobs effectively. I want company sanctioned guidance, and have made no secret about it. But now, because I am intelligent enough to figure out how to do things on my own, and someone else less capable of independent learning is being passed over for a job they could not have handled, they're placating her by sending her to training for another job she could not handle, and not sending the one person who needs the training.

I feel like I am being punished for being smart, and that does nothing to help my morale or motivation.

Not happy.

Promotion Commotion

OK, this is getting silly. Our recently launched Incentive Checking has, apparently, met with lukewarm response. Don't blame me; since my own problems with the Incentive website were resolved, I have been pushing this like my old Crown Vic when the engine blew (i.e. with all my might, and it's not really moving anywhere). So, in an effort to generate additional interest, we are relaunching the product with a new campaign.

I was confronted yesterday by a gigantic, obnoxious blue monolith clogging one of the customer exits from the teller area. It offends the eye and obstructs your path, while offering nothing but the name of the product, the slogan, and vague imagery. Apparently this product can, judging only by the signage, allow you to get a pile of random merchandise, a jumbo jet airliner, and oversized novelty dollar signs.

OK, fair enough. Advertisement. I get it. But certainly, it can be done in a smaller space, and can be positioned somewhere where it isn't making clients funnel through one narrow space to leave the teller area.

Later in the day, we see a large blue duffle bag. Said duffle is filled with, among other things, small stress relieving foam airplanes. (Much needed, by the way. I've been through six of them this morning alone.) ALSO secreted in this duffle bag are blue ribbons, asking "Have You Been Rewarded?" with our logo on the bottom. We must wear these now, held on by our magnetic name tags. Have I Been Rewarded? No, I certainly have not. Despite the fact that I look like I have won Best In Show, I don't consider this a Reward, I consider it punishment.

I've always been grateful and proud to work for a company that doesn't do the cheesy gimmick thing. I hate watching people standing on the side walk wearing a gorilla suit and a sandwich board that says "You'll Go Ape Over Our Interest Rates!" I think it demeans both the employee and the bank. Dressing us up with ribbons and bows and making us decorate our break room is missing the point.

Maybe the real reason people aren't going crazy is that they realize that with only 200 Miles per month maximum for ACH payments and 100 Miles per month maximum for withdrawals, it would take 5 ½ years to earn $50. People miss Debit Pluses, and if you ask me, this is a poor replacement. They want dollar for dollar bonus miles! They want to redeem exact amounts for airline tickets, not this sliding scale that pretty much guarantees you're losing miles unless your ticket costs exactly $250. Yes, they get HUGE bonuses for Direct Deposit, and an Anniversary Bonus that will halve the time it will take to gain serious miles, but it just isn't that exciting.

So let me be frank, Fiscal United Bank; it's not gimmicks, it's not ribbons, and it's not bells and whistles the common people want. It's zero problems, which is what we're known for. It's the ole Straight Talk Express. Let's save the ribbons and get down to some serious Incentive!

F.D.I.C.-Ya On The Other Side

With the "big bailout" finally voted through, excitement abounds concerning the increased coverage provided by the FDIC that was tacked on to the bill. So with this increased coverage comes a deluge of questions from clients. Here are some of the best so far:

"So does this mean I'm fully covered now?" (usually asked by people with about $3,000 in the bank)

"Does this mean I need more signers on the account?"

"So my coverage does what now?"

"Benny-who?" (when asked about beneficiaries)

"So I have more money now?"

"Ok, its 100,000, times 250,000, that's 25,000,000, right?"

"Why don't you have candy on your desk like she does?" (with them pointing at my coworker's desk)

As I may have mentioned, we don't have the brightest clients.

Mini Vacay

Well, now, I'm back from my five day retreat from the banking world. Nothing big happened, right?

Interesting five days. The more I did, the longer I stayed away from the bank, the more I forgot, and the more relaxed I became.

Wednesday: Tremendously productive. Jeep inspection and oil change, paid property taxes and home owners insurance, my vision is 20/20 (actually 20/15 in my right eye) and I got a lot of cleaning done around the house. Forgot the interest rates on business money markets.

Thursday: Not so productive. Some cleaning, some writing, some video games. Forgot the mail code for product services and the name of the business I opened a checking account for on Tuesday.

Friday: Did NOTHING productive. Literally. TV, video games, writing, internet, eating (it is vacation, after all). Forgot the interest rates on Interest Bearing Checking, the mail code for check images, and the number of the deli that I always got lunch from.

Saturday: Now Saturday was epic. My brother woke me up an hour too early to get to my nephew's football game. I went to the deli to get an egg sandwich. It was gross. I dropped my phone outside the deli, and didn't realize until 25 minutes later, thus skragging my phone. Football game was rained out. Whilst playing video games, texting over IM, and chatting over X-Box Live, I managed to stab myself just above the knee with an X-acto knife. I hobbled to the Sprint Store, found the exact phone I wanted, found out they didn't have it in stock, went home to see if my old phone would hold a charge, found out it didn't, went back to Sprint store to get other, less perfect phone as temporary replacement. Did more house cleaning despite stab wound to the knee. Forgot interest rates on ALL accounts, name of the courier, proper emergency exit procedures, and how to use ConnectionSpot.

Sunday: Did last minute cleaning. Went to Blockbuster with Jillian to rent video games. Went to my sister's house to visit and explain stab wound, helped brother in law with Jeep cover. Went back home and played video games. Watched baseball, learned a whole lot about Facebook. Forgot names of co-workers, phone number of the branch, job description, passwords to all computer applications, and directions to the branch. By the time I went to sleep Sunday night, all I remembered was that I had a job with Fiscal United Bank and that my title had the word Relationship in it.

Monday: Imagine my disappointment when I learned that my job was about Relationship BANKING, not as some sort of romantic counsellor.

Leave Me Alone, I'm Sick

So I'm running a fever of, by my estimation, 128 degrees. I've been bouncing between flop sweat and shivering for the entire day. My sinuses feel like their packed with Pop Rocks and Alka Seltzer. My nose is like Hilary Clinton; it won't stop running, even though it's been told repeatedly that enough is enough. My cough sounds like a 75 year old woman who smoked 18 packs a minute for 320 years. I'm hallucinating, or maybe there really are small parakeets dive bombing the teller line.

But I can't go home, because I am closing. This isn't the first time, either. As a teller, I once went through an entire day having to vomit every 45 minutes, even though I had nothing in my stomach. I had such a high fever that I was huddled over the drive up drawer with the heater on for warmth. I had to lay in the back on the floor every few minutes to keep from falling down. But I stayed, because I was closing, and God Forbid anyone else step up to the plate and take a bullet.

Everyone wants you to feel better, everyone wants you to be well, exccept no one else will step up and take over for you if it means they have to stay past 5:01.

Being a team player is sometimes exceedingly painful. I have a five day weekend starting Wednesday. Hopefully tomorrow will find me not as an extra in The Andromeda Strain.