I work at a bank, and if you didn’t know, banks do not keep a lot of cash on hand like you see in the movies. Otherwise, we would be robbed every week, which is bad for business. We don’t issue cashier’s checks for non-customers or brand-new account owners.

A man in his thirties comes in and hands me a check.

Man: “I’d like to cash this check, please.”

Me: “Okay, do you have an account with us?”

Man: “No, I don’t.”

I look down at the check. It’s for $210,000.00!

The check is from our bank, and I’m able to verify it with our customer who wrote it, but as I stated, we don’t have that cash on hand. Even if you totaled the cash at all the branches in our area, we couldn’t cash the check for him.

I explain that to the man.

Me: “Sir, the earliest we could get you that much cash would be a week. We’d have to order it in.”

Man: “Fine. Then I’ll open an account and close it in a week.”

We were hesitant to order the money at all; it is a big risk to have that much money coming in and for him to have that in cash.

It took an hour to get him to understand that there was no way he was getting cash for his check that day.

I work in IT for a bank. We are a comparatively small bank; we only have a handful of branches throughout the Pacific Northwest. We are mainly phone support, and while we do onsite support, it is usually equipment setup for new locations or occasionally cabling issues. As a rule, though, the users usually have to help out a bit.

One night, one of our techs gets a call and through his troubleshooting comes to realize that the teller just needs to plug the device into a different USB port. Simple, right? Apparently not.

I only hear his side of the conversation at the time, but he relates everything to us afterward.

Tech: “You’ll need to plug the sig pad into a different port. There should be one available on the front of the computer that you can use.”

User: “Can you send someone out to do this?”

We were based in Seattle, Washington. This branch is in southern Oregon and it is about 3:45 on a Friday.

Tech: “I can try, but we don’t usually send someone out for something like this. And it would be Monday or Tuesday at the earliest before they can get down there.”

User: “Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m eight months pregnant! I can’t be crawling all over that floor! You need to send someone out to do this now!”

Tech: “Is there someone else in the branch who can help you? Like I said, I can see if we can get someone, but it’s going to be next week before they’re down there.”

User: “I’m eight months pregnant! You need to send someone out now!”

Tech: “Look, it’s 3:45 on a Friday. We’re all closed on the weekend, and honestly, I don’t think my manager is going to approve the mileage for someone to come out just to swap that port. Is there someone else who can help you out currently?”

User: “Ugh. Fine!” *Muffles phone* “[Coworker]! I need help!”

She got someone over and they were able to swap the port easily. Guess what? Her issue was resolved! The tech understood her not wanting to get on the floor, but really, how is us driving down there going to be easier than asking a coworker to help? And in the time it took her to try and force the visit, she could have swapped it about fifteen times.

My mother-in-law can be a sweet person but honestly seems to believe the world revolves around her and what she wants. One Friday night, ten days or so before Christmas — the busiest time of the year at my job — she calls me. She wants me to take her to the grocery store tomorrow.

I’m not sure why; she can still drive, and she went to the grocery store this morning with her best friend. I tell her I am in a time crunch and that my daughter and I have plans to finish our Christmas shopping and get some other things done before the holiday.

She starts whining about how it won’t take long; she will be ready right at 10:00 tomorrow morning and get it all done right away.

I should know better by this time in my marriage, but I agree. I forgot that no good deed goes unpunished.

The next morning, my daughter and I show up at 10:00 am, hoping to get done and still salvage part of the day. We go in and [Mother-In-Law] is sitting in her living room in her bathrobe with her hair up in curlers, watching TV.

Me: “Did I get the time wrong? I thought you said you’d be ready by ten.”

Mother-In-Law: “Guess I lost track of time.”

She continues to sit there.

Me: “Well, why don’t we come back later when you’re ready? We have a lot we’d like to get done today.”

She sighs.

Mother-In-Law: “Well, I guess I can hurry up and get ready.”

She proceeds to spend the next hour getting ready, complaining the whole time that now she’ll have to redo her hair for church the next day.

Finally, she’s ready.

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, now we have to go eat. I haven’t had breakfast yet. Can’t shop on an empty stomach, can we?”

So, now we have to go to her favorite diner. It’s a nice enough place but slower than pulling taffy. An hour and a half later, we’re finally ready to leave the restaurant. For all it’s her favorite place, she sent everything back often enough.

We get in my car and she tells me she has to go to the ATM. There is an ATM for her bank right there in the parking lot of the shopping center we’re in. I start to pull up to it when she says she can’t use that machine. I ask why.

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, it’s too dangerous to use that one. Someone might try to get in the car. I have to use the one in [City].”

This one is a pull-through. And [City] is halfway across the county.

The bank with the ATM [Mother-In-Law] wants to use is closed on Saturday, and the ATM is in the now back empty parking lot that backs up to a wooded area. To use the ATM, I would have to park, and she would have to walk across the deserted lot and stand at the machine to use it.

Aside from the fact that I don’t want to add another forty-five minutes or so to an already too-long errand, I decline.

I pull into the little glass shelter of the ATM and open the window to use the machine. She is nearly hysterical, going on and on about how someone could easily get into the car and how I am putting my daughter in danger.

Me: “[Mother-In-Law], the doors are locked and the windows are up. There’s barely room for my arm to reach the ATM, let alone for a person to squeeze between the car and the machine. It’s a busy place and there’s a long line of cars behind us. Do you still want to use the ATM, or do you just want to go on to the grocery?”

Mother-In-Law: *Sulkily* “Oh, just the machine.”

She gives me her card and I ask her how much she wants. She wants $100. I put in her password.

Mother-In-Law: “How do you know my password?!”

Me: “Simple. You use your birthday for all your passwords.”

I give her back her card and her money.

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, it gave me two fifties! I wanted five twenties.”

Me: “Don’t worry; the grocery store can take care of that.”

We pull away from the shelter, safe and sound — imagine that! — and drive to the grocery store. We walk in. The first thing [Mother-In-Law] does is walk up to the nearest cashier, who is checking out a long line of customers. Remember that this is mid-December, on a busy Saturday just before Christmas. In a very loud voice — she is partially deaf in one ear — this person who’s so concerned with safety practically yells at this poor cashier.

Mother-In-Law: “I just came from the ATM and all I have are $50s! Can you break a $50?”

The cashier looks at her like she has two heads, looks at the long line of customers at every register, and replies, somehow without any sarcasm.

Cashier: “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure we can.”

As we walk away, I say to [Mother-In-Law], with more than a little snark:

Me: “You should have yelled a little louder; there are probably folks back by the deli who didn’t hear you announce that you had fifties.”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, do you think that was a bad idea? I never thought about that.”

We got what she insisted she had to have right then, waited in a long line to pay, and left. I made her and my daughter wait in the store so I could get them in the car as fast as possible, since I had no idea who might have overheard her.

It was now after 3:00 pm, more than five hours after her promised “just a quick errand” to the store. And what was so important that she had to get it then and there? One frozen turkey breast, which she didn’t cook until her friend’s birthday… in February.

But I learned to grow a spine and say no once in a while. Lesson learned.

I upgraded my bank account, which meant I needed a new debit card. I waited a few days for it to arrive, and once I opened it, I stared at it for a few seconds in shock.

The three-digit code on the back of the card was 000.

I thought they had somehow given me a fake card, but it worked when I made a purchase at a store, so I figured I would keep it for a bit.

A few weeks later, I was getting ready to move when I saw a set of pots and pans I wanted to purchase on a major retailer’s website. I added it to my cart and put in my information. Then, I received an error message: “Please enter a valid CVV.”

It turns out their system was not recognizing 000 as a valid code, so I decided to call customer service and place the order over the phone. I reached a representative and she found the set I wanted. Then, I gave her my information.

Representative: “What is the CVV?”

Me: “000.”

I heard her typing, and then she paused for a minute.

Representative: “I’m sorry, but that is not a valid code. Please tell me the three digits on the back of the card.” 

Me: “I did. It’s 000.”

Representative: “I’m sorry, but that is impossible. Please read the numbers carefully.”

Me: “I am. It’s 000. I’ve used this card in stores before, so I know it works.”

Representative: “I don’t know what to tell you. It is showing in my system that this is not a valid number. You can try going to the store, but it probably won’t work there, either.”

I finished my call with the representative and went to their store. The card worked. 

Unfortunately, I lost my wallet a couple of months later, so I had to get a new card, and it has a real CVV number now. It’s probably for the best. That card would’ve gotten hacked eventually, anyway.

I work in a call center for a major bank.

Client: “I want to complain about the automatic answering thing.”

They’re referring to the IVR — integrated voice recognition.

Client: “It doesn’t give the option to press zero to talk to someone.”

Me: “You can say, ‘associate,’ or, ‘customer service,’ and it will connect you.”

Client: “What if someone can’t talk? Even if they are disabled and they can only press buttons with their nose?”

Me: “This is a voice-based call center. People who can’t talk won’t call this number. They would use TTY or a relay service.”

Client: “I still think it’s wrong, and when the higher-ups listen to this call I’m sure they will fix it. It’s just not fair for people who can’t talk!”