(I’m a teller. The phone rings at my station.)

Me: “[Bank] on [Street], how can I help you?”

Customer: “Account balance!”

Me: “Sure thing. I’ll just need you to confirm some information—“

Customer: “Two! Two! Option two!”

Me: “Ma’am?”

Customer: “YOU’RE NOT A COMPUTER!”

Me: “No, ma’am. I work at [Branch] on [Street]. Do you have your account number, so that I can give you a balance?”

Customer: “I don’t want to talk to you! I want to talk to the computer! TRANSFER ME TO THE COMPUTER!”

Me: “Well, our automated banking number is [number], but I can give you a balance—“

Customer: “NO! I don’t like humans!” *hangs up*

(I look around and notice several of my coworkers are giggling.)

Me: “And they say we’re too automated…”

(I am a tenancy support worker and one of the people I have been supporting, unfortunately, had a house fire a few days before this happened. They have had to move to a temporary flat with barely anything and cannot access their previous property until after the investigations are complete. Several days after the fire, I am with the tenant ringing various companies to change their address, cancel payments, and generally try to get things sorted. Near the top of our list is changing the address on the bank account.)

Me: *after going through security, etc.* “We just need to change the address on the account, as the previous address is unsafe to access.”

Bank: “Unfortunately, as telephone banking has not been set up, I am unable to do this for you over the phone. Their local branch can do this for you; just take two forms of ID and proof of your new address.”

Me: “They don’t have any ID; all they have is their bank card because there was a fire.”

Bank: “Alternatively, you could write to the head office with copies of your ID and change of address and they will process it within three weeks.”

Me: “I don’t think you’re quite understanding the situation. There was a fire. Everything was destroyed or is currently inaccessible and will be for several months. We need to change the address on the account as we cannot access any post that goes to the property.”

Bank: “And we will be happy to do that once they take ID into the local branch.”

Me: “What part of ‘there was a fire’ are you not understanding?”

(We went round in this circle several more times, including with the supervisor, getting nowhere. In the end, I hung up. We are going to go to the local branch with every piece of paperwork the tenant has left and hoping that someone there has enough common sense to understand why fire plus paperwork doesn’t have a good outcome!)

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(The branch manager is out, so I’m considered the “supervisor on duty,” as I’m a lead teller. The phone rings. One of my coworkers grabs it.)

Coworker: “[Branch] in [Town], this is [Coworker]… You want the balance on your boyfriend’s account? Are you on the account with him?… I’m sorry, I can’t give that information out unless he approves it…Yes, really… It’s a violation of our privacy policy…He can add you, but he would need to come in and speak to a banker… I’m sorry, our manager has stepped out, but I can take a message and… Yes, I am new… Please hold.” *puts the phone down and turns to me* “Can you talk to this lady? She won’t talk to me anymore because I’m new.”

Me: “No problem.” *picks up the call* “This is [My Name].”

Customer: “Finally! I need the balance on my boyfriend’s account.”

Me: “Are you on the account with him?”

Customer: “Well, no.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t give that information out unless he approves it with us beforehand.”

Customer: “But I’ve done it before! He asked me to!”

Me: “Technically, it’s a violation of our privacy policy to give out information about an account that doesn’t belong to you.”

Customer: “Oh. I was not aware of that.”

Me: “He can always add you to the account, but he’d need to stop by a branch and speak to a banker.”

Customer: “He can? Great! I’ll talk to him about that later. You’ve been so helpful, [My Name], thank you!” *hangs up*

(My coworker is staring at me, mouth open.)

Coworker: “You said almost exactly what I said.”

Me: “Yep.”

Coworker: “She didn’t listen to me. She listened to you.”

Me: “Yep.”

Coworker: “GAH!”

Me: “Welcome to [Bank] in [Town], where nothing makes sense!”

(I’m a personal banker. One of the tellers has just sent a customer over to my desk, as he’s insisting that his balance is lower than it should be. Note: I’m female. Both the customer and I are in our 20s.)

Me: “Good morning! So, you have a question about your account balance?”

Customer: “Yes. When I checked my online banking this morning, I saw charges on there that look a little weird. I think someone hacked my account.”

Me: “No problem. I can look into that for you. I just need to see your ID so I can look up your account.”

(He hands it over, and I pull up his account. I see 10 to 15 charges over a two-day period from multiple adult establishments and bars in another state. I can feel myself starting to blush. Since there are other customers around, I can’t blurt out what I’ve found, so I decide to try jogging his memory.)

Me: “Ah… I think I’ve got some answers for you.”

Customer: “What? What is it?”

Me: “Sir, did you travel to [State] on [dates]?”

Customer: “Sure did. It was my buddy’s bachelor party!”

Me: “Okay, it looks like these charges are coming from [State]. What sort of… um… places did you visit in [State]?”

Customer: “To be honest, I can’t remember.” *laughs* “Are they charges from bars?”

Me: “Yes, there are a few of those.”

Customer: “Okay, those are probably mine. What other places are coming up?”

Me: “Let me turn my computer screen around and I’ll show you.”

Customer: “Why? You can just tell me.”

Me: “I’m really not comfortable with that.”

(I turn my computer screen to face him and wordlessly point at each charge.)

Customer: “I didn’t do those. Nope. Not me.”

Me: “So, you made the charge at [Bar] at 1:00 am, but you didn’t make the charge at… ah… this other place–.” *points at strip club name on the screen* “—at 1:45 am? Did one of your friends get a hold of your card?”

Customer: “D*** it! Okay, I am responsible for all those charges! I remember them! But I didn’t get what I was after. Services were not as described. Can I dispute the charges if that’s the case?”

(My face is now undeniably bright red.)

Me: “Ah, well… since you admit to freely making the charge and using their… services, you’ll have a hard time getting the fraud department to refund your money. I can call them for you and file a dispute, but no guarantees.”

Customer: “Hmm… can you refund the money?”

Me: “I’m not authorized to do that. And even if I was, you just admitted to me that you made the charges yourself so I wouldn’t be allowed to.”

Customer: “FINE. Just leave them. I still think I should get a refund. Services not as described.”

(He walks out. The teller who sent him over emails me.)

Teller: “What were all those charges?”

Me: “Bars and strip clubs. He says services weren’t as described.”

Teller: “EW! I’m so sorry I ever sent him over!”

(This happens literally every time this customer comes into the bank:)

Me: “Hi. How are you?”

Customer: “I’m well, and you?”

Me: “Good, thanks! What can I do for you?”

(Then, there’s more small talk as I do his transaction.)

Customer: “I think I saw you the other day on [Street]. I didn’t know you lived there.”

Me: “No, that wasn’t me; I don’t live over there.”

Customer: “Oh, well, where do you live?”

Me: “…”

(I give him a different answer about where I live every single time. It’s never the correct street or even near my house, yet he asks me where I live every time he sees me. No.)