Jane now asks for me whenever she calls, and will only deal with me. She will hang up if anyone else attempts to assist her. I tend to be that person in the bank for all of our elderly and less than 100% mentally sound clients. I listen. I would make a great bartender if it weren’t for the fact that I can’t stand for more than ten minutes without a vicodin and I have the memory of a gold fish with anterograde amnesia. I have the ability to tune out the droning to a certain extent and let the client prattle on, injecting a timely “uh huh,” or “really,” when appropriate. Whereas other bankers tend to retreat fairly quickly, I have the stamina to let them vent for several minutes before I allow myself to be “rescued.”
So I get the freaky calls. I get the endless dissertations on the evils government from the paranoid nutbags. I get the wistful tales of better days from the old fellas who know everyone in town and have for half a century. I get the ignorant and often racist tales from the elderly folk who remember when there were separate water fountains and dammit, they liked it. And I get Jane Sykes.
Like the time she called me early one brisk spring morning to address a problem she was having with a different kind of liquidity.
RB: “Thank you for calling Fiscal United Bank, this is your Relationship Banker speaking, how can I help you?”
JS: “Dear, this is Jane Sykes. I have been a member of your bank for over thirty years. I have a problem, and you are the one I always deal with.”
RB: “Yes, of course. How can I assist you today?”
JS: “The pipes in my house are leaking all over the place!”
RB: (Stunned silence) “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. so how can I help you?”
JS: “I need you to come over and find out what the problem is!”
RB: (More stunned silence) “Jane, I’m sorry, but I’m not a plumber.”
JS: “You can’t come over to help me?”
RB: “No, I’m sorry, but that’s not a service I offer. I’m a banker. I could try to get the number of a plumber for you, if you’d like.”
JS: “No, thank you. I’ll try someone else. Good bye.”
Dammit, Jim, I’m a banker, not a plumber!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Fun Things To Do During The "Lunch And Learn" A.K.A. Satan's Break Time
I'd like to meet the executive who thought up the lunch and learn, so I could shake his or her hand; shake it, along with the rest of their body, until they are reduced to a loose pinkish-purple jelly in a suit.
It's unfortunate enough that we are already forced to work a nine hour day. It doesn't matter that we get an hour for lunch (although in some cases, we don't even get that). No other job I've worked at required nine hours of my day devoted to it every single day. I've worked at jobs where we worked an eight hour day, and got a half hour removed automatically for our lunch, and I've even worked at jobs where ::GASP:: they paid you for your lunch hour.
Because it's not really an hour for lunch; you need to clear off your desk, lock up your drawers, lock your computer, go out and get to wherever you're going for lunch, wait for them to prepare it, travel to wherever you go to eat your lunch, eat your actual lunch, throw away the garbage, drive back to the branch, wash your hands, unlock your drawers, unlock your computer, etc... you actually only get about 20 solid minutes to sit and really enjoy your meal.
Then someone had a brilliant thought: we bring in a consultant/instructor/motivational-speaker/mouthbreathing-empty-suit to yammer at them, telling them things we should have taught them at training, and give them cold pizza. That way, we can tell them that they are eating lunch, and therefore, not pay them to do something that is a job requirement! So not only are they taking away my right to escape from the pressure of being at work for nine hours, they are taking away my right to choose what I want for lunch and my ability to enjoy eating it. This is why I am sure to not learn anything when I am subjected to a lunch and learn (a.k.a. forced servitude). Go ahead, throw pie charts at my head, bury me in job aids, and drone on endlessly about the "Seven Things Not to Say to a Client Who is Looking to Spill My Blood Over the Current Financial Climate." I'll be the one in the corner drawing a picture of you being drawn and quartered on my yellow legal note pad.
Other fun ways to pass the time on a "Lunch and Learn":
Stare at the speaker and every five seconds, nod once quickly and say "Yuh-huh..."
Make as many anagrams as possible from the speaker's name. Use their title if you get stumped.
Ask the speaker their full name and title before they start, and start and end every subsequent question, comment and answer with it. ("John Farkus, Assistant Director of Product Placement Services, you raise an interesting point, John Farkus, Assistant Director of Product Placement Services.")
Hum as inaudibly as possible while still actually generating sound. When you run out of breath, inhale sharply and quickly, and preferrably only when the speaker looks away. (Works great in teams; when one person speaks, the other should pick up the hum.)
Excuse yourself to use the toilet every six minutes.
Take a sip of water and let it spill over your lip when you lower the cup. Pretend not to notice.
Be really into your lunch. Chew emphatically, roll your eyes in bliss, and moan loudly. Ask repeatedly "is this homemade?"
Settle down for nappy time, resting your weary head comfortably on your arms.
Translate the speech for your fellow listeners in made up sign language. Or Esperanto. Or Klingon.
Whenever the speaker pauses, say "And then what happened?" in wide eyed fascination.
Giggle. Frantically.
If all else fails, a fake faint will usually get the situation resolved, but watch out for thngs you might hit your head on on the way down.
It's unfortunate enough that we are already forced to work a nine hour day. It doesn't matter that we get an hour for lunch (although in some cases, we don't even get that). No other job I've worked at required nine hours of my day devoted to it every single day. I've worked at jobs where we worked an eight hour day, and got a half hour removed automatically for our lunch, and I've even worked at jobs where ::GASP:: they paid you for your lunch hour.
Because it's not really an hour for lunch; you need to clear off your desk, lock up your drawers, lock your computer, go out and get to wherever you're going for lunch, wait for them to prepare it, travel to wherever you go to eat your lunch, eat your actual lunch, throw away the garbage, drive back to the branch, wash your hands, unlock your drawers, unlock your computer, etc... you actually only get about 20 solid minutes to sit and really enjoy your meal.
Then someone had a brilliant thought: we bring in a consultant/instructor/motivational-speaker/mouthbreathing-empty-suit to yammer at them, telling them things we should have taught them at training, and give them cold pizza. That way, we can tell them that they are eating lunch, and therefore, not pay them to do something that is a job requirement! So not only are they taking away my right to escape from the pressure of being at work for nine hours, they are taking away my right to choose what I want for lunch and my ability to enjoy eating it. This is why I am sure to not learn anything when I am subjected to a lunch and learn (a.k.a. forced servitude). Go ahead, throw pie charts at my head, bury me in job aids, and drone on endlessly about the "Seven Things Not to Say to a Client Who is Looking to Spill My Blood Over the Current Financial Climate." I'll be the one in the corner drawing a picture of you being drawn and quartered on my yellow legal note pad.
Other fun ways to pass the time on a "Lunch and Learn":
Stare at the speaker and every five seconds, nod once quickly and say "Yuh-huh..."
Make as many anagrams as possible from the speaker's name. Use their title if you get stumped.
Ask the speaker their full name and title before they start, and start and end every subsequent question, comment and answer with it. ("John Farkus, Assistant Director of Product Placement Services, you raise an interesting point, John Farkus, Assistant Director of Product Placement Services.")
Hum as inaudibly as possible while still actually generating sound. When you run out of breath, inhale sharply and quickly, and preferrably only when the speaker looks away. (Works great in teams; when one person speaks, the other should pick up the hum.)
Excuse yourself to use the toilet every six minutes.
Take a sip of water and let it spill over your lip when you lower the cup. Pretend not to notice.
Be really into your lunch. Chew emphatically, roll your eyes in bliss, and moan loudly. Ask repeatedly "is this homemade?"
Settle down for nappy time, resting your weary head comfortably on your arms.
Translate the speech for your fellow listeners in made up sign language. Or Esperanto. Or Klingon.
Whenever the speaker pauses, say "And then what happened?" in wide eyed fascination.
Giggle. Frantically.
If all else fails, a fake faint will usually get the situation resolved, but watch out for thngs you might hit your head on on the way down.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
An Amusing Call
BLUE POINT - 9:39 A.M.
Relationship Banker: "Thank you for calling Fiscal United Bank, this is your Relationship Banker speaking, how can I help you?"
Customer: "Yes, this is Mr. Customer, I have an account with you for years."
RB: "Good morning, Mr. Customer, how can I help you?"
MC: "I received a piece of mail yesterday from you that is addressed to Valued Customer. What is this all about?"
RB: (Befuddled Silence) "Um, I'm sorry, but without looking at the piece of paper itself, I can't possibly tell you what it is about."
MC: "Well, I can't make it in there to the branch. Here's what it says. It has New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, and then a bunch of numbers."
RB: "Ah, it sounds like you've received an updated list of what routing numbers are considered a local check."
MC: "Ok. (long silence) So what do I do now?"
RB: "Well, I would recommend you read it first."
MC: "Ok. (more silence) And then what?"
RB: "Well, then you can throw it out."
MC: "That's just what I wanted to hear, thank you!"
RB: "You're welcome. Have a great day!"
MC: "Bye!"
Relationship Banker: "Thank you for calling Fiscal United Bank, this is your Relationship Banker speaking, how can I help you?"
Customer: "Yes, this is Mr. Customer, I have an account with you for years."
RB: "Good morning, Mr. Customer, how can I help you?"
MC: "I received a piece of mail yesterday from you that is addressed to Valued Customer. What is this all about?"
RB: (Befuddled Silence) "Um, I'm sorry, but without looking at the piece of paper itself, I can't possibly tell you what it is about."
MC: "Well, I can't make it in there to the branch. Here's what it says. It has New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, and then a bunch of numbers."
RB: "Ah, it sounds like you've received an updated list of what routing numbers are considered a local check."
MC: "Ok. (long silence) So what do I do now?"
RB: "Well, I would recommend you read it first."
MC: "Ok. (more silence) And then what?"
RB: "Well, then you can throw it out."
MC: "That's just what I wanted to hear, thank you!"
RB: "You're welcome. Have a great day!"
MC: "Bye!"
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Jane Sykes, Chapter Three: In Which We Learn That They Are Out There, They Are After You, And They Hate Your Cats
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 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).
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Client Appreciation 7,200 Minutes
Fiscal United Bank, seeing how truly visionary and awesome my thought processes are, has adopted my policy. On September 2, 2008, at 1:45 P.M., I celebrated Client Appreciation Minute. Anyone who was at my desk at that time was eligible for a free giveaway. No one showed. But the higher ups must have sensed the potential, because they took my idea and multiplied it by 7,200! We are in minute number 4,935 of our Client Appreciation 7,200 Minutes (referred to in some circles as "Client Appreciation Week") and the giveaways are hot and heavy! We have Baby Ruths! We have Snickers! We have 3 Musketeers! We have mini Reeses! We have M & M s! We have Whoppers! We have- wait, what?
Whoppers? Who eats these? They taste awful! I heard they are used as an alternative to waterboarding by the C.I.A. They are disgusting.
Anyway, it's a good thing that this week falls on Halloween, because pretty much all we're doing is giving away candy. We did that every Friday in August. They're taking my idea and dragging it through the mud with their poorly conceived give aways!
Whoppers? Who eats these? They taste awful! I heard they are used as an alternative to waterboarding by the C.I.A. They are disgusting.
Anyway, it's a good thing that this week falls on Halloween, because pretty much all we're doing is giving away candy. We did that every Friday in August. They're taking my idea and dragging it through the mud with their poorly conceived give aways!
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