It's not like I'm a stranger. I have been a regular monthly visitor (sometimes multiple visits per month) to our local credit union. We started our accounts there when it was actually a telephone employees' credit union, way back when my dad worked for the phone company. It's not like I'm some fly-by-night upstart trying to launder money.
It's that time of year to roll over The Pony's certificate of deposit. I move money into his readily accessible account, for rent-paying, what little fees aren't covered by his scholarship, and his monthly allowance. Last year, the employees at the CU said the way to do that was cash out the CD and issue a new one in the new amount. Fine by me. I'm not a banker. We couldn't find the original CD, but they said that was fine, so I went in and signed a copy and they issued a new one and gave it to me. Not a big deal. I had asked about it while in the office, called a day ahead, and walked in to find it ready and waiting.
I did the same thing this year. Asked about taking money out. The girl at the window looked stricken. She went to ask the head lady at a desk in the back. I could see the whole interaction, and hear it, too. Let the record show that Head Lady is not a charmer. The old head lady retired this year. She was a sweetie. This current HL was not a favorite of my mom's. In fact, Mom resigned her unpaid position on the board of the CU because she didn't want to be around this current HL. I never knew what her beef was, but it becomes more apparent every time I go in.
The Window Gal and Head Lady were bantering about the date on the CD. It was October 1st. Let the record show that October 1st was a Sunday. The CU doesn't do business on Sundays. Last year I called one day too early to switch out the CD. I was told that you don't have to do it ON the day, but you have a 10-day grace period. See there? NOW I was standing in the office asking about it on Tuesday the 2nd, when the first date I could have done anything about that CD was Sunday the 1st.
Anyhoo...they agreed that I had time. Window Gal wrote the dates on a printout for me to take home. I discussed the matter with Farmer H, we looked at a projected Pony budget, and decided upon the amount to transfer. Let the record show that Genius was always consulted on his budget, and gave accurate projections, but that The Pony is not good with a budget, either spending double or not spending at all over certain periods. So it's best to keep his finances under tight rein, and steer him where he needs to go, because he won't see it for himself, jumping from cotton-candy cloud to marshmallow hill, his vision fogged by unicorn farts.
I called the office on Tuesday the 3rd, and got School Pal, a former classmate of Genius, who has worked there for a couple years, has graduated with a four-year degree, and is rumored to be on course for the head lady position at the CU. School Pal knew exactly what I was talking about. He said to give him a bit to get it ready, and I told him I'd drop by before noon the next day. Which was TODAY, Wednesday the 4th.
When I got there, nobody was manning the two glass-covered windows in the battlements of their fortress. I stepped up to one, and the Head Lady herself came to help me. I could hear School Pal on the phone at a desk in the back. HL gave me the third degree about what I was seeking, even though I initiated the conversation with a pleasant greeting, my name, and that I was there to sign papers for transferring money from The Pony's CD to his regular account, leaving XX amount in a CD.
"I called yesterday. I spoke with School Pal. He said it would be ready before noon."
Head Lady spoke over her shoulder with School Pal. He said the papers were waiting up front. That Window Gal had done it yesterday, and told him where the papers were.
Nobody could find the papers. Even a reserve window gal came up to look. I saw them thumb through three different piles.
"Window Gal is off today," said Head Lady. "I'm not sure where she left them."
School Pal again assured her that the business end of it was done. I offered to come back tomorrow, or Friday, but Head Lady told School Pal to write a note on the back of the CD (which they found in a file after he told her the number of the certificate) of the amounts of the transaction I requested, and have me sign it. If there was any paperwork due me, they would mail it.
Why do I not feel confident that this business has been taken care of properly?
HM-_It is so much fun to have to deal with incompetent or snotty or incompetent snotty people...
ReplyDeleteHow did Head Lady even get this job since she doesn't seem to have a clue how to do it, she's like my old supervisor/front end manager who enjoys being "the boss" but has all her minions reading all new information and then telling her what it means, then they act on it while she takes the credit.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteYes. I seem to have dedicated my retirement years to it!
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River,
I think it was a matter of who had been working there the longest. Which doesn't necessarily mean the most qualified.
I have also had a "boss" who was good at taking credit, but not much else. Lucky I didn't work for him TOO long. As you might imagine, I was not one of his favorites. Kind of touchy in a principal/teacher dynamic. We used to get copies of info letters he planned to send home to parents. Good thing! So many grammatical errors (I can't fault him with this, because that stuff does not come easy to some people). I knew this material couldn't be mailed!
My across-the-hall colleague and I would discuss it. She said, "You've got to tell him." Nope. I didn't need my butt handed to me on a platter for some future inconsequential action. You can't go acting like you know more than the boss. So...I told my colleague to go over it with him. She was in his inner circle, and was bestowed much thanks for her helpfulness.
Why does this seem to be run like a governmental agency?
ReplyDeletefishducky,
ReplyDeleteHeh, heh! Ya got THAT right! Having worked for a government agency, I am well-versed in the various levels of incompetude, and the Old Gals' Network.