It's depressing when people lose their precious life savings through fraudulent transactions. They can get hysterical and even suicidal. I have worked in the banking sector for long and it's easy to spot signs of financial despair.
Tears stream down her face. She's got that desperate, panicked look in her eyes. There's a long line of people and she's the last person on the queue. Her eyes dart back and forth, seeking a knight in shining armor. Chivalry is not dead. A gallant knight, I mount my white horse and ride to her side. I see the absolute terror in her eyes. Between sobs, she tells me she has lost her life savings and possibly a large chunk of her mind.
I invite her to the privacy of my office, away from prying eyes, to get the full details of what transpired.
"I made a payment online and it turns out it's a fraudulent transaction. I want to cancel the payment before they make away with my hard-earned savings. Please help me."
I urge her to stay calm but that only gets her more agitated.
"Do you have your client card?" I needed to identify the person before me. She could be the one trying to defraud the actual account owner. There are strict procedures when processing transactions. Verifying the client is paramount.
Unfortunately, she doesn't have her bank card.
"Do you have any means of identification?"
She left them at home in her frantic haste to get help at the nearest bank branch.
"Please you're wasting time. Stop the questions and cancel or reverse the payment before it's too late!"
But I need to identify her person before I can do anything. She needs to give me some form of identification.
She loses it completely. Goes berserk and hurls her phone against the wall. Then takes off her denim shirt and throws that on the floor. She sits down in her black jeans and lace bra, then starts pulling her hair. It's bizarre. I'm not sure how far this could go, so I try to restrain her with a hand on her shoulder. Just then, my manager enters the office attracted by the commotion.
Imagine how this looks. I have a hand on a young lady sitting in my office. She's distraught - screaming and fighting me off. Her denim shirt is on the floor, revealing an upper body clad only in a white lace bra. Her phone is shattered. My manager has a troubled look in his eyes.
"What's going on here?"
It certainly wasn't what it looked like.
Eventually, we were able to help her cancel the fund transfer she had done.
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