A Belle in a Bank

Left my wallet on the desk at home this morning.  Had to go to the local branch of W Bank to withdraw a little bit of money for mother from a certificate of deposit.  Naturally, I'd put it off to the last minute.  Didn't realize I'd left the wallet at home until I got to the bank.

A very personable new fellow was helping me and when I realized I had no ID (although I recited all social security numbers, phone numbers, addresses, etc.) he asked if I by chance knew an employee in the bank who could verify that I was who I said I was. That didn't upset me...I like that the bank won't just dole out cash out to any Tom, Dick or Harry who might be up to no good.  Not too many people working there looked familiar...last time I was in, I knew three or four employees. Sure enough though, there was one lovely lady still standing whose son had been in high school with Legare.  We chatted about the boys for a minute then returned to the business at hand.  Nice guy typed and printed and I signed. 

When he went to cut the check, the bank manager somehow became involved and after five minutes, I looked over the cubicle wall and inquired as to whether or not they needed me to join them.  He led her back over to the cubicle and as she rounded the corner she gave me a look that I could not possibly describe and asked in the MOST unprofessional manner you could imagine, "So, you're driving withOUT a license??"

My stars woman, I wanted to say...Do you moonlight for the

highway patrol??  Goodness knows that my nerves were a bit frayed after keeping high school students focused on the last school day before Thanksgiving, but I kept calm and carried on...

I stood up and said..."So...I'm going to run home real fast...ten minutes there and ten minutes back...and get my driver's licence."  She smiled smugly as I continued, "While I'm gone...you shred those documents I just signed to withdraw X dollars.  Let's just close the account.  Thank you SO much. Be back in a jiffy."

Now the account didn't have a gajillion dollars in it but it wasn't chump change either.  As I walked out, Ms. Manager wasn't smiling.  Smug gone bye bye.  Some advice, when you're a new person working in a bank in a small town, you ought not tick off people who have lived in said small town for 25 years and have really good relationships with people who work in other banks in town.

When I returned with the proper credentials the manager was nowhere to be seen and the young man was waiting on me with the paperwork I'd requested.  I signed...he got a check...all was right with the world.

I didn't want him to think that things had gone south because of him.  He was very professional and polite.  It was the manager. Had she walked around the corner and said, "I'm so sorry but I know you understand that we really need to see the ID", I would have still been slightly perturbed (even though a rule is a rule); however, it was the tone and implication that she was distracting me with small talk while they ran my picture through the FBI database to prove that I was a criminal mastermind set to defraud the entire national banking system that made me go "twink."

Tomorrow morning, I'll be depositing mother's money from W Bank in the hometown bank down the street. The one where you can walk in on Monday morning wearing sweats and not one bit of makeup and where they'll laugh about your not having your driver's license while you wait 10 minutes for them to write you a check for a $25,000 personal loan to cover the check you wrote on Saturday when you bought a boat.

There are benefits to small town life...but apparently NOT at W Bank.