How NOT to Treat a Bank Teller

I spent 8 hours today getting yelled at.  The intricacies of the reasons behind the yelling differed, but the underlying issue was the same:  people don't know how to talk about or manage their own money, and somehow they think it's my fault.  While I loathe my job, and wake up everyday angry that I have to go back to that wretched place, I have never wanted to simply throw my teller drawer of money on my manager's desk as I storm out the door, with a general, "FUCK THIS!" yelled for all to hear.  Until today.  Today was my breaking point, and now--come hell, high water, fire, brimstone, or (God forbid) another LMFAO single--I have to find other employment.  I swore I would never go back to waiting tables after grad school, but I somehow feel like I'm once again in the shitty restaurant business, except without all the "can I have 4 more ramekins of ranch dressing" requests.

Part of it, I realize, is that I'm an elitist snob (but the good kind, I swear!!), and have little patience for people who can't understand that it is a "Checking" account, not a "Checkings."  IT IS NOT PLURAL, PEOPLE.  So, you may be asking, "But Eden, then why are you in a customer service job?"  Fair question.  Mostly I don't mind those types of jobs; I mean, remember when I was working at La Spa and had all kinds of blog fodder from the hysterical people that came in???  That was a win-win situation:  people act crazy while paying through the nose for spa services, I get paid to witness it all, and then you guys got to read about it for free on the Internet.  What's NOT to love about that set up?  These days, however, people come into der Bank and act crazy about their (meager) "checkings" accounts, yell at me because they got charged $10 per check that bounced--which, incidentally, they do EVERY MONTH--and then I come home tired and cranky and not at ALL inclined to blog because I'm emotionally drained and mentally pissed.  This game?  Is one that no one wins.

So please, to every person who reads this blog, remember these things when you are dealing with anyone in a customer service-type position:

1.)  We are humans, too.  We mess up.  We get tired and sad and cranky and upset.  Sometimes (MOST times) it's not that we're intentionally trying to screw with you; we just got some bad news and our minds aren't in the game.  Sorry.  Really.  Don't take it out on us.

2.)  Sometimes it's not that our minds aren't in the game, but rather the rules of the game prevent us from doing what you want.  I cannot, no matter what sob story you give me, refund $450 in returned check fees or unfreeze your account because the government has put a hold on all your assets when you filed for Bankruptcy.  I want to help; I'm just not allowed to, and no matter how snippy you get with me, I can't change that.

3.)  Don't get snippy with me.  That will make me less and less inclined to try to do anything to help you.  Period.

4.)  Lastly, remember that montage in Fight Club where Brad Pitt's all "the people you are after are the people you depend on?"  It's real, y'all.

Bank tellers?  Are the Gatekeepers to your money.  Oh, that loan payment didn't get processed and now your car has been repossessed?  Shouldn't have been so damn rude and yelled at me for something that YOU did wrong (15 overdraft fees last month, much?).  You told me to "make a credit card payment" and then are amazed that A) I put the payment on the Visa instead of towards your line of credit (they are NOT the same thing; the Visa is the card, which is why I put the bloody payment on it instead, you ninny), and 2) I applied the minimum payment amount rather than some abstract amount that you never mentioned--how in the name of Luther George Simjian was I supposed to know you wanted to pay $67.48 when your payment is $25?!?!?  (Look him up; it's a solid reference.)

So remember:  we are the gatekeepers.  Don't.  Fuck.  With us.