Need To Check And Save That Dog!

, , , , , | Right | February 12, 2019

(After a busy day at work, I’m excited that I’m at my last hour. I have to start closing half an hour before I leave. An elderly woman is sitting in the lobby, and when asked, she tells me she wants to open a safe deposit box, as well as transfer money from her checking to her savings. This sounds so simple, I figure I have more than enough time, and ask her to step into the office. She tells me she’d like to speed things up because she has her dog in the car. It’s April in Houston; although not as hot as summer, it is still pretty bad inside of a car. I say that’s fine, but I ask if the dog has the windows down. She says yes, so on we go.)

Customer: *hands over $5,000 check* “I need $2,000 for me, and the rest in my savings.”

(I realize she wants me to cash the check, give her $2,000 cash, and put the rest in her account, so I clarify.)

Customer: “No. I want $2,000 for me and the rest in my account.”

Me: “Okay, so, you want me to cash the check, give you $2,000 and deposit the rest into your account?”

Customer: “No, I want the rest in checking.”

Me: “All right, let’s get this straight. You want me to cash the check. Deposit $2,000 in your savings account, and put the rest in your checking account?”

Customer: “I want $2,000 for my savings box. The rest in my checking.”

(Figuring out that she means her safe deposit box, I tell her that she should cash the check, deposit what she needs into her checking and turn the $2,000 into a cashier’s check, since it’s safer. What she does with the check is her business. She says yes, so I tell her it will take me a few minutes while I go to the teller line and do that for her. I come out after about ten minutes since it is a busy day. The customer is standing by the door. I tell her I have the check and I’m ready to get started on opening the safe deposit box account for her.)

Customer: *almost screaming* “I said I wanted $2,000 in my checking and the rest in my savings!”

(I may have misheard her or just got confused with the whole ordeal from earlier, so I apologize and let her know I’ll fix it and I’ll be right back. She says she will be outside with her dog. I fix the error within two minutes and set to open her safe deposit box account. I don’t call her in so she won’t leave her dog in the heat, and I don’t need her at this step, anyway, since it’s just a matter of printing the papers and getting the keys. I’m hitting the print button when the woman walks directly to the assistant manager and asks to speak to the manager. The assistant manager asks how she can help her.)

Customer: “This woman doesn’t know what she’s doing. She could’ve just told me. My dog is sitting outside, and she made an error.”

(The manager looks at me and I step out of the office to let the woman know that the error is fixed and I’m at the point where I just need her to sign. Finally, the customer agrees to go inside so she can sign her paperwork.)

Customer: “I can’t believe you didn’t know what you were doing. You should’ve just told me.”

Me: “I’m sorry; it was a misunderstanding.”

Customer: “Well, you should’ve just told me you didn’t know what you were doing.”

(About twenty minutes have gone by. I’m ready to close down and I don’t like being told I don’t know what I’m doing when she clearly had her stake in it.)

Me: “I made an error. I apologize. It means I’m human.”

Customer: “Well, you shouldn’t have.”

Me: “If I didn’t make errors, I wouldn’t be working here. I would be working somewhere else, making a lot more money.”

(The customer hmphs and signs. She walks out of the office after I explain the details and hand over the keys.)

Me: “Do you need me to let you into your box?”

Customer: “No, I have my dog in the car.” *walks out*

(I notice she left the check behind.)

Me: *rushing to the door* “Ma’am, you forgot your check.”

Customer: “No. I need you to put it in my savings.”

(Now I’m confused, but I assume she means her safe deposit box since she has signed the paperwork and taken the keys.)

Me: “I can’t put it in your safe deposit box; I’m not allowed to know what’s in it and I can’t go in there for you.”

Customer: “The other bank took my box down for me and helped me.”

Me: “I can let you in and help you carry the box, but I can’t go in there for you since you have the keys. We do not hold a set of keys here, and we are also not allowed to know what’s in a box.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous; I have my car switched on for the dog.”

Me: “My coworker here will keep an eye on your car; I’ll let you into the room and you can put the check in.”

(Grudgingly, she agreed. At this point, the manager was next to me and we both went into the vault room with the customer. To my disgrace, the box I originally wanted to assign to her didn’t work, so the one I picked in a rush was at the very top, needing a step ladder. I climbed up the ladder, opened the box, had her and the manager verify the check was being put in, since she insisted I didn’t want her accusing me of a missing check later, and closed the box. By the time this was over, it was past my time to leave, I had a blaring headache, and the poor dog had sat in the car for about an hour.)

Shouting Has Increased By A Factor Of Four Hundred

, , | Right | February 11, 2019

(For security reasons, we are not allowed to send large amounts of cash to drive-up customers. A customer pulls into the drive-up and sends in her ID.)

Me: “Good morning! How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, give me—“ *garbled mic noises* “—$400 out of my account.”

Me: “I’m so sorry, but the mic is acting up, so I want to confirm. $400?”

Customer: “NO! $410.”

Me: “Certainly. Withdrawal for $410; how do you want that back?”

Customer: “Are you deaf?! I said $400!”

Me: “No problem. $400 it is; how do you want it back?”

(The customer scowls at me and rolls up her window. I start the withdrawal, but need her to sign a receipt, so I send the carrier back out to her. About a half-second later, she rings the “Call Teller” button.)

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “ARE YOU STUPID?! I said $1400!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I thought you said $400.”

Customer: “FOURTEEN HUNDRED! Stupid girl! GIVE IT TO ME NOW!”

(She continues hurling abuse and demands at me. I just stand there and wait for her to run out of steam. When she does…)

Me: *sweetly* “I’m sorry, but that is over our drive-thru limit. You’ll have to come inside to get that.”

(I turn off the mic and hand the rest of the transaction off to the lobby teller, who has heard the whole thing. This sets her off even more, as I can see her screaming at me.)

Coworker: *grins* “So, it’s $400, right?”

Me: “Have fun getting yelled at!”

(She did eventually come inside and get her cash, complaining all the while.)

Not Perfectly On Time

, , , | Right | February 5, 2019

(Part of the procedure each morning is to have an employee call in to a banker who is already in the branch before coming in. This morning, the banker sees an employee pull up and answers the phone when it rings, assuming it’s her. Keep in mind, we don’t open for at least another half an hour.)

Banker: “Thank you for calling [Bank]. how can I help you?”

Customer: “I’M PISSED OFF!”

Banker: “Oh… What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

(The customer then goes on a tirade about how her son is travelling and has no money in his account, which is obviously the bank’s error. It becomes apparent that she does not have his account number, or even permission to access the information.)

Banker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t actually open until ten. Would you mind calling back then, and then we’ll see what we can do for you?”

Customer: “When is that, twenty minutes? Fine, I’ll call back.”

Banker: “Perfect!”

Customer: “NO, IT’S NOT F****** PERFECT!” *hang ups*

(She never called back.)

A Very Understanding Boss With A Not Very Understanding Caller

, , , , | Working | January 31, 2019

(I take calls regarding credit card accounts. My shift end time has come and gone, but I am on the phone with a cardholder who cannot understand his very simple bill and is unwilling to be placed on hold to be transferred to a billing specialist. My supervisor is waiting for the call to end, as she can’t leave until all of her team has signed off the phones. She has taken a seat next to me and is listening, giving hints to try to get the customer off the phone. She signals for me to mute the call, and says:)

Supervisor: “Anyone can understand the bills; you just have to figure out a way to say it to get through to them. Let me take over the call; get your things together and get ready to go home.”

(My supervisor then puts on my headset and I run for the facilities, desperately having to use the restroom. I return a few minutes later to my supervisor still on the phone, shaking her head and mock beating it on the desk. She finally tells the caller to take his bill to his bank and have someone there review it with him, as there is nothing else that can be done over the phone, and she disconnects, obviously over the protests of the caller.)

Me: “So, he still didn’t understand?”

Supervisor: “There are exceptions to every rule, and he was a glaring one. If I ever hear you ever used the term ‘idiot’ to describe a caller, I’d probably write you up, but this was as close as I’ve ever come to doing so myself. I apologize. I was wrong; there are some people who just don’t understand!”

(My supervisor was tough, but that day she certainly earned my respect.)

Not Taking Into Account How You Use The Account

, , , , | Working | January 26, 2019

(My bank doesn’t let you take money out of a certain type of account more than twelve times a year without paying a fee. I have this account because the interest rate is pretty good, but I didn’t know about the withdrawal limit. I’m currently at the bank, with my dad, to transfer some of the money from one account to another. This is before I can do online banking, as I’m not eighteen at the time.)

Me: “Hi. I want to transfer some money from one account to another.”

Bank Teller: “All right, can you give me the account numbers?”

Me: “Sure.” *gives her the numbers*

Bank Teller: “Okay, I see here that you’ve taken money out of your account eleven times this year. You can only do it twelve times a year without paying a fee. Are you sure you want to transfer the money?”

Me: “What? I wasn’t aware of that.”

Dad: “Wait. I’ve never heard of this before. Is this new?”

Bank Teller: “Yes, we started with this a couple of months ago.”

Dad: “She’s had this account since she was three years old.” *it was in my parents’ names before I turned sixteen* “Why haven’t we been informed of it?”

Bank Teller: “Well, we just figured that people don’t really transfer or take money out of the bank more than twelve times a year when they’ve got this type of account.”

(My dad looks incredulously at me.)

Dad: “Well, in that case, we would like to close that account, and open another one. The same type of account. As she’s taken out money eleven times, there shouldn’t be a fee to transfer the money to a new account.”

Bank Teller: “I really can’t do that. You can only take money out of the account twelve times a year.”

Me: “Yeah, but if I open up a new account, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Bank Teller: “Well… I’m sorry, but I can’t do that for you.”

Dad: “All right, thanks for your help. We won’t be withdrawing any money today, but we will go across the street to the other bank and switch all our accounts over there.”

Bank Teller: “What? No! I… I can fix it for you!”

(I managed to open up a new account, transferred all of the money over to that one, and closed the old account. Now that I can do online banking, it’s pretty easy to transfer myself, and open up new accounts and close them as I wish.)

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