It's not you, it's me
When I was a teenager, I did most of my father's banking.
I would ride my Schwin beach cruiser about two miles to the closest Farmers & Merchants branch.
I knew everyone in there. The lady that I babysat for worked there.
Also, the bank manager was somebody that my dad had dated for a time. She was always nice to me.
It seemed like I was there all of the time.
And then I wasn't. I got too busy with balancing work and school and I no longer had the free time to help out my dad this way.
So it was really strange going back to his bank to take care of his estate's banking needs.
Our lawyer had told Number 2 and I that we needed to open up a joint checking account sometime in the next 30 days for the rent checks that we were going to receive from my dad's duplex.
To do that, we were going to have to close one of my dad's accounts and use that money to fund the new joint account.
Number 2 and I went to an F&M branch that was really close to my house and got in line.
When it was our turn, we approached the bank teller window and received a friendly greeting from the Samoan girl working behind the counter.
"We'd like to close this account please," I said.
You could tell this didn't happen to much for this teller. She got a little flustered and after a few minutes, she took our information over to the acting bank manager (another Samoan woman).
I watched nervously as the two of them whispered back and forth. Were they going to let us do this?
The bank manager approached and greeting me not with a smile but a sad look on her face. I thought she might be trying to be empathetic due to our loss.
"VW, I understand that you would like to close this account," she stated.
"That's correct," I replied.
"Is there anything that we did that is causing you to take your business elsewhere? I'm sure that if something happened, we could find a solution," pleaded the bank manager.
This conversation got really awkward, really fast. She almost looked like she was going to cry.
"It's not you guys, it's me. I don't bank here on a regular basis and it really isn't convenient to keep this money here."
She stopped pleading with me to change my mind and went ahead with our requested transaction.
Number 2 was about to bust up laughing.
They gave us a cashier's check and we were on our way.
The moment the doors closed behind us. Number 2 lost it.
"Dude, you just broke up with a frickin' bank!"
And that was exactly what I had just done.
VW
I would ride my Schwin beach cruiser about two miles to the closest Farmers & Merchants branch.
I knew everyone in there. The lady that I babysat for worked there.
Also, the bank manager was somebody that my dad had dated for a time. She was always nice to me.
It seemed like I was there all of the time.
And then I wasn't. I got too busy with balancing work and school and I no longer had the free time to help out my dad this way.
So it was really strange going back to his bank to take care of his estate's banking needs.
Our lawyer had told Number 2 and I that we needed to open up a joint checking account sometime in the next 30 days for the rent checks that we were going to receive from my dad's duplex.
To do that, we were going to have to close one of my dad's accounts and use that money to fund the new joint account.
Number 2 and I went to an F&M branch that was really close to my house and got in line.
When it was our turn, we approached the bank teller window and received a friendly greeting from the Samoan girl working behind the counter.
"We'd like to close this account please," I said.
You could tell this didn't happen to much for this teller. She got a little flustered and after a few minutes, she took our information over to the acting bank manager (another Samoan woman).
I watched nervously as the two of them whispered back and forth. Were they going to let us do this?
The bank manager approached and greeting me not with a smile but a sad look on her face. I thought she might be trying to be empathetic due to our loss.
"VW, I understand that you would like to close this account," she stated.
"That's correct," I replied.
"Is there anything that we did that is causing you to take your business elsewhere? I'm sure that if something happened, we could find a solution," pleaded the bank manager.
This conversation got really awkward, really fast. She almost looked like she was going to cry.
"It's not you guys, it's me. I don't bank here on a regular basis and it really isn't convenient to keep this money here."
She stopped pleading with me to change my mind and went ahead with our requested transaction.
Number 2 was about to bust up laughing.
They gave us a cashier's check and we were on our way.
The moment the doors closed behind us. Number 2 lost it.
"Dude, you just broke up with a frickin' bank!"
And that was exactly what I had just done.
VW
posted by JVW at 1:09 PM
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