November 7, 2018 – “And then . . . I cancelled my account”

         Years ago standing in line at my local bank, near Christmas time with a hand-written paycheck, I watched a scene unfold that was unforgettable.  It taught me one of life’s most valuable lessons.

         If you don’t like how you are treated by a bank, merchant, or service provider – you can close your account and take your business elsewhere. That is what the free market system is – competition among like services.

         It was a powerful lesson on how to manage anger at entities that don’t treat the customer correctly.  Let me tell you more.

         This was in the early 1970s when there were smaller branches, fewer banks, and longer lines.  There was no direct deposit then, no free checking accounts, and the lines were long around Christmas time.  This one branch stayed open until 6:00 p.m. because it was in the shopping district, but being a small branch, had only one teller.

         I was about 4th person back from the stylish middle-aged women at the counter.  She had a “cultured voice” – that voice of intelligence and polish and charm all rolled into one voice that I yearned to acquire myself.  She was making a withdrawal and dealing with a young teller - a male teller.

         What caught my attention was how loud he was counting out the cash she was withdrawing.  I could clearly hear it three people back, which was at least a dozen feet away. [Years ago, people in lines kept a conservative three-foot distance between themselves and other patrons.]

         “One, two, three . . .” he counted out a loud as he snapped crisp bills into a pile, and concluded with “one thousand.”   That perked my ears – my weekly paycheck was $97 and some change. My mind raced with what I could buy for Christmas gifts if I had $1,000 cash in my hot little hand!

         I leaned to one side, watched him count another pile of money and wasn’t expecting his announcement of two thousand.  He continued counting.  The people in front of me became interested as well and they leaned slightly sideways to watch the stacks of thousands running across the teller’s raised ledge in front of the woman. In the end, the male teller announced, “Five thousand”.

         “You’ve just announced it to the whole world.  Now, how am I supposed to safely get to my car, without being robbed?”  Her voice was clear and polite, yet was dripping with indignation. I remember that I and the three or four patrons behind the woman, nodded our heads or shrugged our shoulders in agreement. 

         The man in front of me turned and shared his surprise with me by raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes.

         Stone silence filled the bank as everyone waited for the male teller to say something. All eyes were on him. The look on his face was recognition that he had screwed up trying to be so “meticulous”.   I don’t remember what he said, or if he said anything.

         But, I will never forget what the woman said to him.

         “Verify my balance – I am closing my account – now.”  She said it crystal clear.  I heard audible gasps in the bank – not sure from whom – but the line would be backed up for some time as I and everyone else watched this saga unfold.

         The panicked teller called the branch manager over from his desk in the corner alcove.  The branch manager tried his best to smooth over the woman’s concerns, offering to personally walk her to her car.  That did not suit the woman and she declined and again requested her balance and announced closing her account adding she would take her business elsewhere.

         The branch manager verified her account and offered it in a cashier’s check and she acquiesced, because he didn’t have enough cash on premises to close her account.  He typed the cashier’s check himself and escorted the woman to her car.

         During this process – the “audience” – the line of bank customers turned and looked at each other and smiled and shrugged our shoulders – but no more than a small whisper here or there was conveyed amongst us.

         It was a stunning revelation to me.  The woman had every right to be angry and she did something instantly about it.  WOW!  What power!

         I mentioned the incident to my friends and family for the next few days and everyone was as impressed with her action.

        

         Fast forward to yesterday and I was “up-to-there” with the satellite TV people.  They had re-scheduled me – over a week later – to come and install a new post and new satellite because my tree canopy was interfering with the signal and I refuse to cut down my trees. 

         The new technician that finally showed up – after I waited most of the day, didn’t have that on his work order.

         The ensuing conversation with the technician, who could hardly speak two words of English, went toxic immediately due to the language barrier.

         Exasperated I told him to leave – as he didn’t have the post or equipment to rectify the situation.  He was stunned that I told him to leave.   But, he stood there immobile.

          I finally had to shout the word – “vamoose”.  He didn’t understand that word and I said, “Leave – Go.”

         He still stood there in shock not certain what he should do and wasn’t even trying to smooth my feathers or figure out a way to make it right for the customer.  He could only mumble that it wasn’t on his work order.

         “How interesting – since the previous technician simply ran out of poles so late in the day, that he couldn’t fix the situation and he put the new service order in for me.”

         “Go,” I waved him away, “You have lost my business – your company isn’t the only satellite TV company in the area.  You’ve lost my business – now GO!”

         ANGRY – yes I was angry.  But, it didn’t take me but two steps into my house until I remembered that stylish middle-aged women who closed her bank account . . .

         MY REVENGE – I called the competitor and set an appointment for what I want, when I want it – and, as a bonus, at a cheaper price. 

         Yes, free market competition – such a splendiferous thing.