PUZZLING ENCOUNTERS

PUZZLING ENCOUNTERS

I had just started my banking career as an intern. I was young and inexperienced. My branch manager took me under her wing and was eager to share her wealth of knowledge and experience. She oversaw multiple branch locations.

 
I stood with her at the banking hall while she explained the rudiments of banking. As I listened with rapt attention, a customer walked into the branch. We paused our chit-chat and welcomed her.

"What can we do for you today?" asked the branch manager.

"I saw the mortgage brochure of your bank somewhere and I was wondering if I could get a copy of it."

"Sure," said the branch manager. "Give me a minute and I'll get it for you." As she turned away to get the brochure, the customer gave me the once over.

"Are you her manager?" she asked. A smile stole across my face. I didn't laugh, although my mouth twitched a few times. Why would she imagine I was the manager? I was a greenhorn. Was it because I was well groomed and wore my best suit? Was it because I was taller than the manager? I couldn’t say.

 

Another time, I went with an General Manager to a function. His hair was unkempt, his clothes scruffy; his eyes bloodshot. He was so thin he could enter if a door was opened just a tiny crack. He was having a personal challenge at this time. I didn't come with my car so we went together in his vehicle. He drove while I sat in the car's passenger seat. There was no parking space to be found when we got to the location. We drove towards the security post where a security guard stood.

I powered down the window and asked him where we could park.

"You go inside, Sir. We'll direct your driver where to park the vehicle."

I turned to look at the GM's face. He was livid. His hands shook on the steering wheel. I did as directed by the security guard.