My Last Day

No longer do I have to explain to customers why I haven't left yet. No longer will I hear the teasing "Thought you went to Toronto!" or "Your still here?!?" or "So, you ever getting out of here?".
Friday was my last day at the bank. My co-workers surprised me with balloons and a cake at my window so all day my customers wished me "Happy Birthday". To most of them I explained they were going away balloons - hence the "Good Luck" written on the balloon. I felt like I had to convert every one I talked to.
"Where you going to?"
"L.A" I said.
"What?! Why! It's gross and dirty and dangerous."
"Thanks for the encouragement. I'm going down there to do improv and comedy."
"Ooohhh that's going to be hard. You know, not everyone makes it."
"Really? I thought you just go down there, take a number, and wait for your turn at fame! I thought following your dreams was easy and paved with great financial security and great things falling into your lap!" - this was not said but said in my mind before saying "ya, I know, but pursuing your dreams isn't easy."
I would then go on about how I already had a room mate, a hopeful transfer with the bank, money saved up, friends offering me their couch if I needed a place to stay to get back on my feet if financially tight.
Finally by the time they left my window with their cash and receipt I got a hand shake and best wishes in return.
I still have so many more stories to share about my crazy customers. So here are my little notes I've kept by my keyboard.

- Loosing my censor on things I say back to customers : A man came up to my window and handed me his credit card payment saying "Well, I guess it's that time of the month." to which my response was "Really? I thought that only happened to women."
A customer angrily asked me why his account was overdrawn. Out of my mouth flew "Because you spent more than your had."
When young women (and older ones) come up to my window caked in makeup and wearing tight fitting clothing hand over a pile of ones I have to hold back the comment "Gee I wonder where you got these." Usually it's the answer you would first suspect.

-Things that I've heard from my customers which has made me think that those with rich bank accounts have poor manners: A lady asked me if I could see if the money she was giving me for her credit card payment was the closing balance. I told her that I had no access to credit card accounts except to make payments but she could call the customer service number to speak with someone to get her account info. She aggressively asked me to call that number and talk to customer service for her. I told her I couldn't because the line was growing longer and because it was not our job or responsibility to deal with customer's credit card accounts. She looked at me a moment then said "Well! You can't do much of anything!" I stared blankly at her for a moment and then proceeded with her payment.

-There have been many times that I have helped a customer with their deposit and after filling out their entire deposit slip and processing it in the computer the customer looks at their receipt and says "I asked you put it in savings!" When they had distinctly told me checking. I don't know how many times I have had to re-write deposit slips because my customer can not make up their mind as to what they want to do. They blame me for taking up their time and for not listening to them.

-Cell phones are another issue that seems to worsen everyday. To my dismay I've had people who get up to my window while on the phone, proceed with a pointless conversation, wait until they are finished on the phone, then do their banking. Or it's the reverse. While in the middle of them telling me of their banking desires their phone rings. They answer and when I've given them their receipt they remain at my window until their conversation is over. A few customers are a little more considerate and try to pack up their stuff while on the phone. How funny to watch them awkwardly putting their cash and card and receipt in their wallet or purse with one hand. Some try the shoulder ear hold so they can use both hands but that usually ends in disaster with their phone crashing to the floor.

-I have a terrible habit of being a psychic teller and finishing my customer's sentences. I seem to not have the patience to wait for them to find the words. Oddly enough I already know what they want.
"Can I have an......"- "Envelope?"
"Could you give me a...." - "A balance?"
"I need to get money out of my....." - "Checking?"

-Oooh! Here's a favorite of mine. Customers who tell me what I can do as a teller. "I don't know my account number! That's your job! You have it in that little computer of yours. Just look me up and you can find me." Or when they tell me that I don't need to put a hold on their checks, or that they don't need to give me their i.d when cashing a large or state issued check. "Well I know 'so-and-so' and they always cash them for me. You must be new!". Their reason behind their advice is that they used to work in a bank and they know the rules. Funny thing is, if they really did work in a bank they should know that the rules and regulations are constantly changing due to security.

-Sometimes I really do feel like and advice consultant. One customer asked me how much I should take out of his account. "Well, what are you using the cash for?" I ask. "Rent? Bills? For fun?" Like I should know how much you want!

-Weird pick up techniques: I've gotten business cards, numbers written on bank papers, odd pick up lines. One guy, after offering him a candy, asked if I wanted to share. My facial response of disgust gave him my answer quick enough. One guy told me he didn't want small talk. He was in a hurry. However, he gave me his business card. He said if I ever needed windows or something to give him a call. I told him not likely since I was moving to California. With that he leaned in the window and rested his chin on his hand and said "well now I have to talk to you. You intrigue me". Nice going buddy, you just told me I wasn't worth your time a second a go. I made the mistake of saying I was going to go to California to do improv and comedy. "Oh comedy! Tell me something funny". I denied his request but he kept asking. Finally he said "I'll give you a topic and you say something funny about it." He gave me the topic of babies. So I told him of a loud baby in the audience for a show I did. When I finished he asked for more. I said "Look, I just did your whole deposit, got your cash, counted it correctly, filled out your deposit slip, and got your balance for you, all while give you a 'comedy' routine about babies. Give me some credit." He leaned in once again and said "I will leave you with this piece of advice: Do you know what the greatest sign of human love is?" Please don't let it be me going on a date with you I thought. "Human sacrifice." With that, he left. Looking back on the conversation I couldn't tell if he was hitting on me or insulting me. One positive note: a guy sent a rose through the drive up. I liked that deposit.

-One lady and I were talking of gas prices and when I gave her her cash she said I don't know why I need to buy so much gas. I have too much of my own. FYI: You don't need to discuss your personal health issues with your bank teller.

-With so little reliance we now have on human interaction I find we listen less and less. When asking a customer what I can do for them I get the reply "Fine" before I even finish asking my question. Sometimes when a customer asks for the balance and I tell them they say "No it's not! What is it really?" Right, like I would lie about your balance. If you ask me again I'll change my answer. So keep on asking and maybe you'll hear the balance you like! This consistent repetition of a question when not liking the answer is more common than you may expect. Some people are just determined to bully you into telling them what you want to hear.
I find a dark humor to this. If they are already being a jerk I find it funny to see how far I can go with still being "nice" to them. Kind of like "how far can I go with batting my eyes at them?"
I actually laughed out loud when a customer yelled at me for not cashing his dodgey check and cussed me out.

-Once while looking out into the lobby at the line waiting for the teller line I saw the image of Darwin's theory of mankind. The tallest up front then descending shorter to the end of the line. The last man was hunched over in a wheel chair.

-Did you know it's still possible to smell the not so washed customers while working drive up? You can smell it in the tubes!

-Once while working in the drive up a customer sent up their checkbook, check card, i.d, work i.d, and their cash. They wanted me to do the deposit and then write their deposit with the balance in the check book for them.

-One lady pulled up to the drive up and got out of her car to send up the tube. As she stood in front of the video camera her car began to roll away. Apparently in her hurry to deposit she forgot to park the car.

-One day we had an interesting character hanging out in the foyer. He had his hood over his head and was walking back and forth looking into the banking center. After too long of being their we called the cops check him out. When the cops asked him what he was doing he told them he was bank security. "Making sure the bank was running in top order". When the cops asked what he was REALLY doing there he admitted that he was a Jedi knight protecting the bank.

-As one guy was being handcuffed in the lobby for trying to cash fraudulent checks he told the cops "This just isn't my day".

-I was cashing a check for a lady that was for $5.23. She asked for a $5 bill and a quarter. I asked if she wanted to give me 2 cents in exchange. She looked at me strangely. I explained that I could give her quarter if she gave me 2 cents to make up the difference for the check. "No! Just give me a quarter back!".

-There are some customers that seem to move like a slug stuck in molasses. While they slowly put their belonging back in their wallet or purse with out fail there seems to be that one person that hovers behind them trying to push them out of the window. I don't mind those that take longer with packing up, I just feel bad for them being pushed out by Mr. Antsy Banker.

-I had one guy who saw the long line and waited until the customer in my window was done before swooping down and landing at my window in front of all the customers in line. Suffice it to say I felt like a mom telling her kid not to cut in line and go to the end of the line and wait until his turn.


Hope you didn't mind the length of this story but I wanted to make sure I had some document of my teller days. I'll probably have more someday. I hope to stay with the bank when I move to California.
For now, these Teller Tales will be taken over by Stories of a Starving Starlet commenting on my next adventure in Hollywood.
Cheers.

Welcome to zoo of America, may I feed your animal today?

Today's winning deposit was a parakeet.


I've had it! I draw the line of people bringing in their stupid pets when a man's bird decides to clickity-clack across my keyboard with it's little claws and disease infested feathers.

The owner walked into the bank already looking suspicious. He wore a large tan trench coat, sunglasses, and a hat. I got a little worried seeing him in line. He looked like he could have been a robber... or a flasher!...except I could see the pantlegs. As he walked up to my window he took his hand out of his pocket. Instead of a gun he pulled out his parakeet. He layed it on the counter and the bird started walking closer to me and then walked over my keyboard. It took everything in me to put my hand near it and have him walk onto my finger.
"Here! Take your bird!" I said trying not to sound too disgusted. I then found out the man wasn't even our customer and he only had some vague questions about IRAs.

I feel like our bank is a pet store sometimes. There are a few dogs I don't mind that come in. They are small and quiet. Still, our money is dirty enough we don't need animals. I have seen people bring in a tiny monkey, a ferret, a rat, and now a bird.

Please! this is not a zoo. Leave the wildlife where it belongs.

I am not an animal hater. I like watching those nature channels and I don't want them to die, but please don't make me touch it. I don't know why animals freaks me out but they do.

As soon as creepy flasher bird man left you can be sure the lysol and anti-bacterial were soon brought out.

Please. Leave your animals at home.

Tearing Away Toronto

My mind can't seem to accept the fact I'll be back at the bank tomorrow.
Sorry my tales have not been on the more humorous side as of late, but in between my laughter comes insights into reality.

I think I have officially fallen in love with Toronto. What contrast I feel from my first week. I'm still the small town girl, but this big city has given me such a big hug. All this is due to the people I have met.
My second and last weekend of class deepend my friendships, I actually met the mayor of Toronto and he gave me a few pointers on how to move here. I went to see The Hour and talked with George Stromboulopoulos and he set me up to meet with the head writers of the show. They were so friendly and gave me advice on where to take the next steps to possibly work there with them.
Hanging out with Deb and her friends: I never once felt like they were just her friends. I can't recall one negative encounter with a person. I know I am lucky and this has been only two weeks, but my heart wants to come back here so badly. In the arts and entertainment world here there doesn't seem to be that race to be celebrity.
I worry for L.A, but if I keep my eyes set on coming back here and working I know that L.A will provide some of the experience I need to make a good resume.
I know some of what I did here is considered "networking". I don't like that word though. It has such a self-driven conotation to it. I like to think of these people I met as friends. We're all a family in the art world and are trying to continue to dig deeper into the art.
It's naive and hopeful, but I'll hang on to that as long as I can.
Cheers.

Day One/ Week One

Day One
17 Jan 2008

This is how I know my life is a comedy:
I made it Toronto safely. My flight early and my bags intact.
Today I got settled into my little furnished apartment that's really a room, kitchen, and bathroom on the third floor of someone's house.
As Deb and I followed the directions given to me by "landlady" we walked the cold streets of Toronto. I tried to keep an eye on all buildings so I could remember landmarks to help me find my way around when I was on my own.
As we got closer to the address I noticed flags hanging from windows and shops. The Canandian flag? I think not. Think more colorful.
The gay pride flag.
Deb started laughing "I think your apartment is in the gay neighborhood".
Yes my friends. It is.
If I didn't already start to feel like a small town girl in a big city and waaaayyyy out of place I sure did now.

The lady who owns the house is very nice and the third floor is pretty seperate from the rest of the house. I am reminded of my housemates when the kids come home though.
While putting away my tioletries I noticed there was a big window across from the shower....and no curtain. Not even frosted glass. Looks like I'll be giving free shows if I don't find something to put up quick!

I went down to see the Second City training center. I felt like such and awkward 13 year old. "Uh hi! I was wondering where the training center is (I was at their main stage). I just flew in from Washington! I'm all turned around. I'm so excited for class. I just wanted to find where it was now so I don't get lost tomorrow." All this said in one stream and one breath. The guys at the desk gave me an interesting look and told me where the training center was. Deb made some funny quick remark to the guys to account for my 13-year-oldness.

ugh. Day one. It's a funny thing to be in a big city and feel completely alone.
I have Deb, but I still feel really out of place.
Things will get better I know. I'm just observing my feelings as of day one.
cheers.

Week One
Tiny Fish; Big Ocean.

At first I thought it would be a culture shock to be living in a big city, but as the days have passed and the classes have finished for the first weekend I've had time to think things through.

My classes at Second City have been going well. A lot is review but since most of the fundamentals have not come second nature to me I am grateful for the repetition.

I get in to see the Second City shows for a good discount (some free student shows) so I'm attending all that I can. I saw my first mainstage show Sunday. They are an amazing group.

My thoughts as I headed to the subway afterwards were things I had figured I might think and feel. But no amount of reading and journaling could really prepare my heart for the realization of just how far I have to go if I am to "make it".
It seems funny to me that even though I've been preparing myself for this big ocean/tiny fish feeling it didn't really hit home until I took the first step.

I thank you soooo much for all of your support. I realize just how important that is to hang on to to keep going.

I know I have a long way to go and will have to work really hard. It's just an interesting experience to see the knowledge/realization go from my head down to my heart.

cheers.
-J

Straw is cheaper, grass is free

Today's winner of my observation was a tall gentleman. The first thing he said to me, as he loomed high above, was: "How do I get someone off of my account? My wife and I hate eachother and we're getting a divorce". Before I could set out my "Doctor is 'in' " sign I noticed a gathering of spit/drool at the corners of his mouth. I just stared. He talked in a mouth full of marbles way and with the help of some crazy physics the spit just stayed in the cracks. I was worried that gravity would take over and it would spill over. Him being so tall and me so short just had to add up to a gross outcome. But, alas, it did not. There had to have been a slight pause before I could answer him. I just stared at this cluster. You know how someone has that little piece of spit or some kind of white thing that clings from one lip to another? It keeps going from top lip to bottom lip to top lip. And all you can think is "please lick your lips, that "spittle" is REALLY distracting." Ya, it was kinda like that.

I get distracted pretty easily. Like if someone has a lazy eye. I feel so bad because I don't know which one to look into. Or if they have a little something hanging out of their nose. Or food stuck to the side of their mouth. I practically have to make them repeat themselves 3 times so I can hear all that they are saying.

There's this guy that comes into the bank and I swear he bought his toupee from a barn. There is no way it's real hair. I dread him coming to my window because I just know I'll be looking at his hair line where you can see the matting of his hay hair. You can actually see the piece sitting on his head. It looks like someone did needle point with straw. It's just awful. Not to mention how awkward I feel when he makes "funny" comments. They aren't funny and he has this forced nervous laughter that makes me nervous in return.

I can't help but be honest in my observations. I have no doubt in my mind that I have ordered many a hamburger with something hanging out my nose or big piece of dandruff chillin in my hair or ketchup on my cheek. We're all human.

And that's why life is so darn funny.

Desperate to be Desperate

Today and yesterday were whoppers of days for crazy customers. This week has been pretty interesting to say the least. Since this week has held the end of the month paychecks, first of the month paychecks, social security checks, and holidy expenses needing to be paid I have seen a wide variety of stressed smelly crazy people.


Funny thing, I actually like the "crazy" ones more than the "normal" ones.

Yesterday, while working the drive up, I got yelled at by an antsy lady. "BEEP!" the teller call button blared in my ear. I'm finishing up with the other customer I had with a really big transaction to do and a bunch of little ones. I press the button to tell the beeping customer to wait just a minute. I'll be with her in just a minute. Before I could even say anything she said "Excuse me, are you going to help me?!" I had already greeted her and said I would be with her in a moment about 3 minutes ago. I thought she was aware of the two cars that were at the drive up before her. "I'll be with you in just a second. I'm finishing up with another customer-" "well I have somewher I need to be! This is taking forever!" My patience at that point in the day had run out. So my reply back was a sweet as I could make it. Trying so hard not to sound too sarcastic. "I see here that you have 5 checks you want me to cash for you. Seeing as we have a 2 transaction limit I was going to do you a favor and cash this for you. But first I'm finishing up cashing the 5 checks my other customer sent up to me". I'm pretty sure she called me a bitch but I had hit the "off" button before I could here it in my ear piece.



She's a good example of the "I'm fighting off my age by trying to dress hip and high light my hair and study desperate house wives to be a totally bad ass hot mom, with my beautiful orange tan, and I'm even wearing these ridiculously huge sunglasses despite the fact that I live in the Pacific Northwest but I'm just too good for this small town po-dunkery" kind of lady. I get them all the time. Mostly through the drive up. Usually on their cell phone. I have actually been "shushed"!!! They have even rolled up their window when I ask if I'm making a deposit for them. They wave me a way, glare at me, or completely ignore me!

I'm not a freaking ATM.

It's been a long week. This is only one instance. I have too many stories to write here. You would deffinately not feel like reading it all. So I'll keep plunking down these stories little by little.

I'm just glad you like them. Life is funny. We just need to see it that way.
Cheers.

Sole Brotha

So I have to tell you this!

It's the last half hour of work and this fella comes in. He's scruffy and has a freshly stamped out cigarette in his hand. As he stands in line I know he'll be my next customer. I just know it. He's about to step up to my window...but wait!....he raises his foot practically to his head. And there it is. His foot. Bare. Dirty - black almost....like his scruffy hair. "Look! No shoes!" he shouts. He walks his way up to my window. "Don't wear shoes. Don't like 'em. My ma tried to make me wear 'em when I was a kid. Hated it. No shoes on me!"
I really would have liked to chat with him, but his stale cigarette breath and stinky hair made my eyes water. It was worse than an onion effect. I tried looking away. Turning around. Fresh air! Anywhere! Anyone?!
Finally he left my window after getting a balance. Something he could have done from the ATM.
He left, the smell stayed, and the story is all that remains of this sole brotha.