My bank constantly makes me uncomfortable and I’ve recently learned it’s all for naught.
Whenever I walk into my bank, some manager/greeter in a suit sorta walks up to me and says, “Hey, welcome to Capital One! How are you? Can I do anything for you?”
I hate this.
I just want to walk into my bank and use the ATM or make a deposit like an old man by dealing with as few people as possible. Maybe there are middle-aged idiots who enjoy this “service,” but it is not a service, as they’re just gonna pass you off anyway.
So anyway I walked into my bank to deposit my coins when I was accosted as usual. However, as I tried I ignore him, I noticed they got rid of their coin machine.
For the first time, I accepted bank manager/greeter’s offer.
"Uh, I need to deposit coins, where’s the machine?"
"Oh we got rid of it," he answered.
"So I gotta pack the coins?"
"Yep."
"Do you have any packing slips?"
"Yep! You can just wait in line and ask the teller for some slips!"
Thanks, asshole!
I waited in line for 15 minutes, got the slips, and then sat at a table for an hour filling slips. These times are underestimations.
By the time I finished, the line was enormous. There were about 20-25 people waiting, and tellers were clocking out, with two tellers left. I unfortunately had to give up, and I started walking out.
"How was everything today?!" asked the manager/greeter.
In a last ditch effort, I again said something.
"It took too long to pack the coins and now the line is gigantic."
He gave me a big smile and said, “All right. Have a great day.”
We often speak with trepidation about the day robots will take over every job, turning humans into gelatinous husks. However, if my bank were run by robots, and I had this exact same experience, people would be up in arms and force everything about it to be reprogrammed.
Robot bothering you when you enter? No.
Robot finding a way to actually assist you? Yes.
Programming is easy!
Instead, I have to battle my social anxiety while entering and leaving the bank. And what do I get for it?
Jack shit.
It’s not nice to be nice. Sometimes it’s just annoying.