LJ Idol Season 10, Week 0 -- Introduction
“Hello! Welcome to TD Bank, my name’s Alicia, how can I help you today?”
Welcome customer to the store, check.
Name, check.
“Oh, so you’re doing a straight deposit today, Susan?”
Use their name at least three times, time one, check.
“Susan, I see that you’ve been preapproved for a TD Bank Cash Rewards card -- have you heard of it before?”
Offer a product or a service, check.
Customer’s name, time two, check.
“It’s a visa credit car -- oh, no thanks? Okay, I just saw the offer and figured I’d let you know, that’s all. Here’s your receipt. Thank you for coming in and enjoy the rest of your day, Susan. See you next time!”
Customer’s name, time three, check.
Thank customer and welcome them back to the store, check and check.
It’s exhausting, the mental checklist. Welcome them to the branch, tell them your name, use their name three times, offer a product or service (or: GIVE THEM MORE, as your manager would say), thank them for being a customer and welcome them back. It cycles through your mind with every customer interaction, even when you’re in the drive thru and all you’re thinking is Man, can’t these people go inside??
Except then they do go inside and there’s no line in the drive thru and you have to run transactions from the front to the back and back again, in order to help the line up front. There is no winning. Just running and selling and counting. Count your box. Count this deposit. Count the vault.
Busiest branch in four regions, you tell yourself. Other branches aren’t like this. They don’t have lines wrapped around the building in the drive thru when the drive thru teller’s running three lanes -- just you. Just this branch. Breathe, you remind yourself. Your box’s at twelve thousand, twenty thousand, twenty-eight thousand, thirty-one -- oh, there’s your head teller, asking if you have money to sell to the vault. Eight straps twenties, a strap of tens, a strap of fives, two straps of ones. Seventeen thousand, seven hundred to the vault in total, only brings you down to just over fourteen, which isn’t low enough to stop Encore from telling you Cash Box too high! after every transaction, but it’s closer, damnit, and it’ll have to do.
You have enough for a strap of hundreds you could sell, too, but you’re defending that with your life; your machine’s just about empty and ten thousand in hundreds could go fast, if you’re not careful. Like in an hour, if you keep getting withdrawal after withdrawal after withdrawal like you’re getting now -- ten thousand to four thousand, just like that, and you were being conservative. Giving out fifties and twenties and you still gave out six-kay in hundreds like it was pennies.
Breathe, you remind yourself. There’s a line up front and there’s a line in back and you have three transactions laid out in front of you and a fourth hanging over your shoulder as a CSR walks towards you and hands you a New Account Deposit Slip. Friday after the first, you remind yourself. It’s a Friday and Josh is, once again, off because he can’t fucking handle it and you and Dante are running the line when Wazi can’t, because you and Dante like to torment yourselves with responsibility neither one of you really wants, or maybe that’s just you, but --
Breathe! you all but shout at yourself, as you realize you’ve been holding your breath as you hand the CSR her transaction, and then you’re on the move: “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mike? Alright, thank you and have a great day!” See you next time, send the tube. “Alright, Michele, you’re all set. Can I help you with anything else? You, too, have a great day!” See you next time, damnit, say it, send the tube. “You’re all set! Thank you and have a great day, see you next time!” Thank fucking god but you forgot to say their name, damnit. And you didn’t offer any single one of them a product or service. Don’t forget to GIVE THEM MORE.
Three cars pull off, and three cars pull in.
“Hello, welcome to TD, my name’s Alicia, how’re you doing today?” Good. “Hi, welcome to TD! How’re you today?” Fuck, you better tell them your name later -- doesn’t matter when you say it, right? “Hey, Ms. Mary, how’re you today?” She knows my name, damnit, I’m not going to tell her what it is AGAIN.
“Hey, can you help up front when you get a chance?” Your manager, his voice quiet but still breaking your concentration as you count through the large cash deposit the customer in lane three thought was appropriate to send through the tube -- in two rounds.
“Yeah, sure,” you force through your teeth, picking up the stack of twenties and starting over. You eye the drive thru; five cars, the lowest you’ve been at in a good fifteen minutes. “When I get a chance,” you add, once you’ve confirmed that yes, you counted fifty bills and reach inside your box for a rubber band. Every half-strap gets bundled together, to make it easier and keep your box neat and tidy.
Your manager doesn’t accept your answer, and all of a sudden he’s handing off a transaction to you that he’s grabbed from the front. You do your best not to glare at him, turn to lane three -- “Thank you, have a great day! See you next time!” -- send the tube, start his transaction.
You try not to remember the day he took out a cash box for himself and set up in the drive thru beside you, claiming he’d show you how it was done.
You, the fastest fucking teller in this branch.
Well, one of the fastest. Dante’s probably faster. Same with Wazi. But you’re faster than Josh and Dipika and Corrine and Aaliyah and you know you are and --
You blink when you look up at the last car sitting in front of window. Lanes two and three are empty. You don’t see any cars behind window, either. And when you send window on their way, you glance behind you through the doorway leading to the lobby, and there’s no one else in line up front, either. You collapse into the chair in front of your station and rake your hair out of your face.
Finally, you can breathe.
Welcome customer to the store, check.
Name, check.
“Oh, so you’re doing a straight deposit today, Susan?”
Use their name at least three times, time one, check.
“Susan, I see that you’ve been preapproved for a TD Bank Cash Rewards card -- have you heard of it before?”
Offer a product or a service, check.
Customer’s name, time two, check.
“It’s a visa credit car -- oh, no thanks? Okay, I just saw the offer and figured I’d let you know, that’s all. Here’s your receipt. Thank you for coming in and enjoy the rest of your day, Susan. See you next time!”
Customer’s name, time three, check.
Thank customer and welcome them back to the store, check and check.
It’s exhausting, the mental checklist. Welcome them to the branch, tell them your name, use their name three times, offer a product or service (or: GIVE THEM MORE, as your manager would say), thank them for being a customer and welcome them back. It cycles through your mind with every customer interaction, even when you’re in the drive thru and all you’re thinking is Man, can’t these people go inside??
Except then they do go inside and there’s no line in the drive thru and you have to run transactions from the front to the back and back again, in order to help the line up front. There is no winning. Just running and selling and counting. Count your box. Count this deposit. Count the vault.
Busiest branch in four regions, you tell yourself. Other branches aren’t like this. They don’t have lines wrapped around the building in the drive thru when the drive thru teller’s running three lanes -- just you. Just this branch. Breathe, you remind yourself. Your box’s at twelve thousand, twenty thousand, twenty-eight thousand, thirty-one -- oh, there’s your head teller, asking if you have money to sell to the vault. Eight straps twenties, a strap of tens, a strap of fives, two straps of ones. Seventeen thousand, seven hundred to the vault in total, only brings you down to just over fourteen, which isn’t low enough to stop Encore from telling you Cash Box too high! after every transaction, but it’s closer, damnit, and it’ll have to do.
You have enough for a strap of hundreds you could sell, too, but you’re defending that with your life; your machine’s just about empty and ten thousand in hundreds could go fast, if you’re not careful. Like in an hour, if you keep getting withdrawal after withdrawal after withdrawal like you’re getting now -- ten thousand to four thousand, just like that, and you were being conservative. Giving out fifties and twenties and you still gave out six-kay in hundreds like it was pennies.
Breathe, you remind yourself. There’s a line up front and there’s a line in back and you have three transactions laid out in front of you and a fourth hanging over your shoulder as a CSR walks towards you and hands you a New Account Deposit Slip. Friday after the first, you remind yourself. It’s a Friday and Josh is, once again, off because he can’t fucking handle it and you and Dante are running the line when Wazi can’t, because you and Dante like to torment yourselves with responsibility neither one of you really wants, or maybe that’s just you, but --
Breathe! you all but shout at yourself, as you realize you’ve been holding your breath as you hand the CSR her transaction, and then you’re on the move: “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mike? Alright, thank you and have a great day!” See you next time, send the tube. “Alright, Michele, you’re all set. Can I help you with anything else? You, too, have a great day!” See you next time, damnit, say it, send the tube. “You’re all set! Thank you and have a great day, see you next time!” Thank fucking god but you forgot to say their name, damnit. And you didn’t offer any single one of them a product or service. Don’t forget to GIVE THEM MORE.
Three cars pull off, and three cars pull in.
“Hello, welcome to TD, my name’s Alicia, how’re you doing today?” Good. “Hi, welcome to TD! How’re you today?” Fuck, you better tell them your name later -- doesn’t matter when you say it, right? “Hey, Ms. Mary, how’re you today?” She knows my name, damnit, I’m not going to tell her what it is AGAIN.
“Hey, can you help up front when you get a chance?” Your manager, his voice quiet but still breaking your concentration as you count through the large cash deposit the customer in lane three thought was appropriate to send through the tube -- in two rounds.
“Yeah, sure,” you force through your teeth, picking up the stack of twenties and starting over. You eye the drive thru; five cars, the lowest you’ve been at in a good fifteen minutes. “When I get a chance,” you add, once you’ve confirmed that yes, you counted fifty bills and reach inside your box for a rubber band. Every half-strap gets bundled together, to make it easier and keep your box neat and tidy.
Your manager doesn’t accept your answer, and all of a sudden he’s handing off a transaction to you that he’s grabbed from the front. You do your best not to glare at him, turn to lane three -- “Thank you, have a great day! See you next time!” -- send the tube, start his transaction.
You try not to remember the day he took out a cash box for himself and set up in the drive thru beside you, claiming he’d show you how it was done.
You, the fastest fucking teller in this branch.
Well, one of the fastest. Dante’s probably faster. Same with Wazi. But you’re faster than Josh and Dipika and Corrine and Aaliyah and you know you are and --
You blink when you look up at the last car sitting in front of window. Lanes two and three are empty. You don’t see any cars behind window, either. And when you send window on their way, you glance behind you through the doorway leading to the lobby, and there’s no one else in line up front, either. You collapse into the chair in front of your station and rake your hair out of your face.
Finally, you can breathe.