I know I can’t control operations at a bank, and
realistically, either can the tellers. So why would I get frustrated by a
simple trip to Wells Fargo to cash in my change today? Here, I’ll tell you.
I walked in with my coin jar and waited in line while the
tellers went about their routine. Every trip through the line is a sales pitch
there, so I normally do everything I can to avoid a trip to my bank. I didn’t
want to count out my change so this was a necessary trip.
My turn was up and I approached a nervous man. He stumbled
over his words.
“Um, I’m sure you are aware that, uh, we don’t have a coin counter
here anymore.” He pointed at a wall where there did, in fact, use to be a
machine that counted coins. He continued, “Our new policy is that you can sit
at one of our manager’s desks and count it and put it in these sleeves.” He
grabbed a stack of random coin wrappers and showed them to me. Somebody wrote that policy.
You’re fucking kidding
me, I thought.
He wasn’t fucking kidding me. He asked me to follow him to
the waiting area where he told a manager that I needed to count and wrap my
change. Now, I could only think of one other option at this point: go to
Walmart and trade it all for a gift card. I decided to see what would happen
next.
This is what happened next:
She sat me down at her desk and told me she had an hour before she had to do anything else and I should be done by then. I? What about we? So I literally sat there for 20 minutes and sorted out my own change, put it in the coin-tube things, and rolled them all out. At a bank.
It seems like every time I walk into a Wells Fargo, they do something that makes me want to try another bank. Usually it's the painfully slow line, or the agonizing bombardment of questions I am asked every time I'm there. If it weren't for the questions, the line would move so much quicker.
"Hi sir, my name is ----."
"Hi."
"What is your name?"
"Vince."
"What?"
"Vince."
"Vince."
"Hi Wince."
"Hi."
"How can I help you today?"
I look anxiously down at my pile of neatly rolled coins and stack of dollar coins. I point to it.
"Ok Wince. I would like to help you with that transaction. Do you have an account with us?"
"Yes."
"Can you slide your card please?"
Fuck. This is the worst part at any Wells Fargo. If you have to slide your card, you will automatically be standing there for at least five minutes because the system they use is from 1948. And this is when they hit you with exciting account opportunities like their new big time cash-back credit card. Fuck.
"I just want to get cash."
"OK, I can help you with that."
Great, you're a bank teller.
At this point he methodically and repeatedly counts all of the work I have done and comes up with $89.15. I tell him he has literally just counted out $99.15 and he thanks me for correcting his error. He asks me if I would like to deposit it or take cash which I thought we had already discussed because I will do anything, literally anything to not have to swipe my card at a Wells Fargo teller machine thing.
I have now been at my bank for 45 minutes which includes 15 minutes of standing in line, 20 minutes of coin counting and sorting, five minutes of setup and teardown of my coin-counting station, and five minutes of a 30-second transaction.
"Would you like to apply for a big time cash-back credit card thing?" OK, that may not have been verbatim, but he did ask me, and so did the giant signs everywhere in the building. I said no and I was finally done.
Wells Fargo gave me an account when I got out of prison. I had bad credit, little money, and they had no reason to trust me. So for that I am grateful. But I think it's time to move on as every trip seems to be an inconvenience to me and every other frustrated person I stand in line with.
