Friday, January 26, 2007

Bank idiot

In my defense, I was never allowed to withdraw money from my savings account as a child. Only deposits. Every dollar gained by a birthday, graduation, Christmas, First Communion, and Confirmation went straight to the bank.

Then when I got my first job at a department store, my mom made my deposits and withdrawals for me because I was never able to get to a bank in time. I was always too early or too late.

When I went to college, I only dealt with the ATM on the campus.

So, you see, I have no experience with withdrawing money from an actual bank teller. Not until today.

I have a $100 bill (it's a long, long story, but suffice it to say that I am not a part of the mob, so I normally never have this kind of currency). I decided to deposit it and withdraw $30. I thought that I wouldn't be able to just deposit $70 and get $30 as change--because I'm still 4 years old and don't know how these things work--so I walk up to the bank teller (excuse me, customer sales representative) with a deposit slip for $100 and a withdrawal slip for $30. And this is where things get beyond embarassing.

Teller: Hello. [looks at the slips of paper and money] Wait. Why do you want to deposit $100 and withdraw $30? Why don't you just deposit $70 and I'll give you $30 back in change.

Me: Oh. I didn't know I could do that. I thought that because it was a $100 bill, I couldn't break it. [turning red]

Teller: Oh, no, you can do that. Here, I'll just change this on the slip to $70.

Me: [taking my ID out of my wallet] Do you need this for a withdrawal?

Teller: Aww, that's so cute. No, you don't need it because you're depositing cash.

Me: [turning the shade of red lipstick that only hookers use] Ok.

Teller: Are you off from school today? (*Note: the time is 8:25am, so it's likely that she's referring to high school, NOT college.)

Me: Huh? Umm, I'm going to work.

Teller: Really? Where do you work?

Me: [insert name of big company here]

Teller: Oh. [silence] Gee, it's really cold out there, huh?

Basically, she assumed that I was a cute, inexperienced teenager who didn't know how banks work. Not a professional, working adult who--because of technology and working crazy schedules--is unfamiliar with the standard operation procedures (SOP, to you corporate folk) of a bank.

How am I ever going to get promoted at work, move ahead in life, succeed, or anything else if I've looked like I was 15 for the last 9 freaking years?? Sigh and double sigh.

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