Today I was driving around on my normal chauffeur route, squeezing the errands in between.
I drove up to the bank drive thru, and as I sat in my car next to the pneumatic chute waiting for the receipt to come back, I realized my hands felt sticky (no, not like the lady in my WWUD post).
Upon inspection, I realized my fingers were black. I surveyed the steering wheel and immediately discovered the source of my problem.
Black, sticky splotches of paint were strategically located in the 10 and 2 position on the back of my steering wheel, but now smeared blotchily around the steering wheel and my hands.
*Important background info that I knew* 1. The last time I drove my car I took it to the car wash, which I rarely do, but sooooo enjoy the aftereffects. 2. My husband used my car after I took it to the car wash and had to open our recently painted gate to drive my car through. (you guessed it - I don't have to tell you what color the gate was painted!)
I was pissed (putting it mildly). The whole momentarily pristine state of my car was sullied. I lost my 'moment'.
Black, sticky splotches of paint were strategically located in the 10 and 2 position on the back of my steering wheel, but now smeared blotchily around the steering wheel and my hands.
*Important background info that I knew* 1. The last time I drove my car I took it to the car wash, which I rarely do, but sooooo enjoy the aftereffects. 2. My husband used my car after I took it to the car wash and had to open our recently painted gate to drive my car through. (you guessed it - I don't have to tell you what color the gate was painted!)
I was pissed (putting it mildly). The whole momentarily pristine state of my car was sullied. I lost my 'moment'.
I started fumbling for wet wipes, trying not to distribute the lovely blackness any more than necessary. Once I got the deposit slip, I slowly pulled into the closest parking space in order to clean up, take a breath and plot revenge on the guilty culprit.
I got it together and moved on.
When I got home, my home phone was ringing. Here's the phone conversation that followed, and this is absolutely true:
"Hello, this is Rena, the manager from the Wachovia branch you visited today."
"Okay" - immediately scrolling through my memory banks - did I leave my card in the machine again?
Rena: The teller who helped you today said that when you left the drive thru, you did not have a smile on your face. We were concerned that you did not receive excellent service.
Me - stunned : Uhhhh, the service was fine. I had other issues within my car.
Rena: So, is there any way we could have improved your service today?
Me, so in shock that I can't come up with anything snappy: No, I don't think so.
Really?!?
Is my bank now concerned about my emotional health? I find this whole phone call hard to swallow. I still haven't figured out the underlying angle. They can't actually be interested in customer service after all these years of not caring. The economy must be horrible if the bank is actually having to resort to positive customer experience in order to retain clientele.
I got it together and moved on.
When I got home, my home phone was ringing. Here's the phone conversation that followed, and this is absolutely true:
"Hello, this is Rena, the manager from the Wachovia branch you visited today."
"Okay" - immediately scrolling through my memory banks - did I leave my card in the machine again?
Rena: The teller who helped you today said that when you left the drive thru, you did not have a smile on your face. We were concerned that you did not receive excellent service.
Me - stunned : Uhhhh, the service was fine. I had other issues within my car.
Rena: So, is there any way we could have improved your service today?
Me, so in shock that I can't come up with anything snappy: No, I don't think so.
Really?!?
Is my bank now concerned about my emotional health? I find this whole phone call hard to swallow. I still haven't figured out the underlying angle. They can't actually be interested in customer service after all these years of not caring. The economy must be horrible if the bank is actually having to resort to positive customer experience in order to retain clientele.
This personal service is making me uncomfortable.
9 comments:
Hmmm, I'm about to have a nervous breakdown. Perhaps I should switch from Chase to Wachovia?
lol@that wording. Do you think the teller really told Rena "This lady a few minutes ago left the drive thru without a smile. Maybe we should follow up."
Once I accidentally left my driver's license at the bank (as in, the teller forgot to return it to me).
They didn't even bother to call. I noticed it two days later and went up to the bank, and they weren't EVEN apologetic. (Here ya go.)
And they called you to find out why you weren't SMILING????
Something's up. Now we just have to figure out WHAT.
@Lola - Who knows? Free therapy when you open a checking account?
@Shawn - Call me paranoid, but something is going on. What teller would report to their manager that they think they didn't give excellent service? WTF?
@The Mother - Something is definitely up! Perhaps I should structure my life so that I can go through the drive-thru every day with a different expression to see what gets their attention.
Wait until I tell my daughter, who is a teller with TD Bank. She will probably laugh so hard you will hear her all the way from New Jersey!! lol
When business show that much interest, it's hard not to be suspicious. A business that actually should do that - call you up - because they offended you, of course never would. Maybe it is the economy.
@Marie - perhaps your daughter could start a little 'teller therapy' business on the side!
@Margo - I know, right?
Wow, that'll make you feel like you're under surveillance... make sure your facial expressions acceptable!
I think I could bleeding at my bank and no one would comment.
It sounds kind of crazy ...however, I suppose there could be possibilities for milking such a situation in the future.
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