Wasn’t Banking On The Wrong Store

| Burlington, MA, USA | Right | November 19, 2015

(Everyone at my branch says the name of our bank and the street we’re on when we answer the phone. Not everyone pays attention.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Bank] on [Street]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, where are you at?”

Me: “[Address]?”

Customer: “No, what’s the landmark?”

Me: “We’re in the [Supermarket] plaza.”

(The customer hangs up on me, only to call back half an hour later.)

Coworker: “Thank you for calling the [Street] branch of [Bank]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah I’m at [Plaza]. Do I have to go into another store to get to you or something?”

Coworker: “No. We’re right between [Store A] and [Store B].”

(The customer hangs up on her and calls back two minutes later.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Bank] on [Street]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Where the h*** are you?! I’m standing in front of [Two Stores Down] and I. Do. Not. See. You!”

Me: “We’re right between [Store A] and [Store B]. Look straight down.”

Customer: *seriously pissed off* “NO! The only thing between [stores A and B] IS [BANK]! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Me: “This is [Bank].”

Customer: “What. No you’re not. I called [Cell Phone Store].”

Me: “Um, no. This is definitely [Bank].”

Customer: “Oh, F*** YOU!” *click*

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Married To The Job

| Denver, CO, USA | Working | November 7, 2015

(I am a receptionist at a bank.)

Me: *answering phone* “Good morning! This is Banker’s Life!”

(Next call.)

Friend: “Good morning! This is Banker’s Life!”

(Next call.)

Friend: “Good morning! This is the banker’s wife! Um… oh, dear!”

Opening His Account And His Mouth

| IL, USA | Romantic | October 31, 2015

(I am opening an account for a high school age kid. He has been attempting to hit on me the entire time. I’m in my 20s, but have been told many times that I look to be about 18, so I’m used to this, but this kid is starting to get on my nerves. He’s been at my desk for 40 minutes. I set up the account half listening to his attempts to impress me, and am trying to politely get him out.)

Me: “So, looking at your ID makes me feel really old.”

Customer: “Oh yeah, why?”

Me: “Because you were born in [year]. See, I was born [seven years earlier], so the fact that someone seven years younger than me just opened a bank account makes me feel very old. Speaking of which, your account is all ready to go. Do you have any questions about it?”

Customer: “I’m feeling old today, too! My back and my legs hurt! I think it’s because I play sports. Football, basketball, MMA fighting… Yeah, I do it all.”

(This kid is shorter than I am and quite skinny.)

Me: “MMA? Seriously?”

Customer: “Uh-huh. Impressive, right?” *grins*

Me: “I have a cousin that does MMA for real. He’s about the size of three of you.”

Customer: “Well… uh… I’m small, but I’m quick! You have to watch out for me!”

(The kid did not stick around much longer after that.)

Talking Eurotrash

| Newcastle, England, UK | Working | October 28, 2015

(I’m living in England but I’m from Ireland. I ring the foreign exchange department of an English bank to find the exchange rate for an upcoming trip home.)

Me: “Hi, I need the current exchange rate for euro, please.”

Foreign Exchange Employee: “What country, please?”

Me: “Ireland.”

Foreign Exchange Employee: “The currency in Ireland is sterling so there’s no exchange rate.”

Me: “Not Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland!”

Foreign Exchange Employee: “The currency in the Dominican Republic is the peso. Exchange rate is—”

Me: “Not the Dominican Republic! The Republic of Ireland! It’s the euro! How can you work in foreign exchange and you haven’t heard of the euro? It’s a huge currency!”

Foreign Exchange Employee: “…”

Me: “France. Just give me the exchange rate for France…”

Doesn’t Take Account Of The Line

| RI, USA | Right | October 11, 2015

(I have just got home from college out of state. I have opened an account with a new bank while at college, but want to move my money into an account in my home state with the same bank.)

Teller: “Okay, so you want to open an account here and transfer your savings. Would you please have a seat in our waiting area? Someone will be right with you.”

(I go to sit down. I’m the only one there, so I figure I’m next. Five minutes later, a filthy older man comes in and sits down in a chair nearby, reeking of beer and muttering to himself.)

Man: “D*** b**** better keep her god-d*** mouth shut… Can’t take it… Can’t… F***** b****… Doesn’t respect me… No respect… Never get respect. He better shut his f***** mouth… I’ll kill him… Got enough bullets… I’ll get him… I’ll get that b****… Talkin’ about me… Teach her to keep her d*** mouth shut…”

(He continues to mutter to himself as I remain as still and quiet as I can. An employee walks out to smile at me, having seen me sit down first. The man gets up and instantly walks to her.)

Man: “I need help with my account… It’s busted…”

Employee #1: “Oh… um, okay… Right this way…” *looks to me and mouths ‘sorry!’ as they go into her cubicle*

(Five minutes later…)

Employee #2: “Hey, I’m so sorry about that… He comes in every week and just… Yeah.”

Me: “Oh, it’s okay. If he honestly believed that he was first in line, I was NOT going to tell him otherwise.”

Employee: *nods, looking scared*

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