I love the smell of rain, though I find it slightly ironic. Its refreshing, new, clean, but at the same time metallic and austere. And while rain washes away a lot of grime, it comes with dark, dreary rain clouds, it blocks out the sun, the sky, all hints of anything blue. It brings mud puddles, makes your socks squishy and frizzes out your hair. And yet rain remains as this great cleansing force.
I like to picture life in film format. Anytime things go wrong, imagine running outside into a great big storm, closing your eyes and leaning your face back against the sky. Lift up your arms, stand for several moments taking deep breaths and soon the clouds part. You are drenched, but after a powerful rainstorm ends, you know it's going to be okay.
Once upon a time, my sixth grade teacher read my class the book Sail On, Mr. Bowditch. I remember one line that caught my attention fast. It's spoken by an elegant woman to a young Mr. Bowditch, who had to give up his dream of Harvard when his parents sold him as an indentured servant. The lady is gazing up at the sky and says, "Looking at the stars brings all your problems back down to size."
That's it, the whole line. And I think it every time I look at the sky.
I like friendly people. I like people who look you full in the face and smile when you pass each other on the street. However, there are limits. I walked into Bank of America the other day and a man was standing in the middle of the bank in a collar and tie. "Good morning!" He said brightly. "What can we do for you today?"
"I just need to make a deposit," I answered.
He motioned to the tellers with "we can help you with that right over here."
His guidance was overlapped by a woman leaning across the counter with a wave and a smile and a "I can help you over here," just in case I lost my way in the 10 feet I had to walk between the man's pointing hand and the woman's waving arm.
"Hello, my name's [Jenny], what can I help you with today?"
Again, "I just need to make a deposit."
"Okay, I can help you with that," said Jenny. "How's your day going?"
There was much small talk and thoughtful conversation within the three minutes it took to process the deposit. I said my goodbyes and left to the tune of "Thank you for being a valued customer."
I then had to make it past the same man, now wishing me a good day.
Well now, I can't really complain about being treated well, can I? But I can laugh at the scripted friendliness Bank of America is trying desperately to achieve. In a world where good customer service means not slapping your customers across the face, that level of Super Friend! service is unsettling. And again, very scripted and therefore suspect. Do we need instruction on relating to people? When did people forget how to talk to each other? It's terrible, I know, to see plastic smiles and forced friendliness where big business is trying to relate to the little guy.
At least they're trying.
I was turned down for a job with Bank of America once. It was a pretty sad little situation. Work sent me to the same bank every day and I got to know the tellers. We were on a first name basis. We broke through plastic smiles and had conversations. We laughed, we cried, we banked, it was that kind of relationship. What was funny was getting to know the managers. When the tellers started saying "Apply here! We need a teller!" I ended up in an interview with people I interacted with regularly. It was a laid back, 'hey we know you already' kind of interview. They were wise enough never to say 'we're going to hire you,' but you know how word gets around. The last obstacle was the personality test. Which I failed. Suddenly, the managers weren't so bold with their friendliness. It was a wee bit awkward after that.
I have despised Bank of America since. I don't bank there, I only go when work requires it. I can't say it's just BofA that's messed up in its chain of command, but I did witness it firsthand. My theory is that once your little mom and pop business gets so big that mom and pop have no idea who's on the ground floor, you've reached the point of getting blogged at. So take that, B of A.
I like to picture life in film format. Anytime things go wrong, imagine running outside into a great big storm, closing your eyes and leaning your face back against the sky. Lift up your arms, stand for several moments taking deep breaths and soon the clouds part. You are drenched, but after a powerful rainstorm ends, you know it's going to be okay.Once upon a time, my sixth grade teacher read my class the book Sail On, Mr. Bowditch. I remember one line that caught my attention fast. It's spoken by an elegant woman to a young Mr. Bowditch, who had to give up his dream of Harvard when his parents sold him as an indentured servant. The lady is gazing up at the sky and says, "Looking at the stars brings all your problems back down to size."
That's it, the whole line. And I think it every time I look at the sky.
I like friendly people. I like people who look you full in the face and smile when you pass each other on the street. However, there are limits. I walked into Bank of America the other day and a man was standing in the middle of the bank in a collar and tie. "Good morning!" He said brightly. "What can we do for you today?"
"I just need to make a deposit," I answered.
He motioned to the tellers with "we can help you with that right over here."
His guidance was overlapped by a woman leaning across the counter with a wave and a smile and a "I can help you over here," just in case I lost my way in the 10 feet I had to walk between the man's pointing hand and the woman's waving arm.
"Hello, my name's [Jenny], what can I help you with today?"
Again, "I just need to make a deposit."
"Okay, I can help you with that," said Jenny. "How's your day going?"
There was much small talk and thoughtful conversation within the three minutes it took to process the deposit. I said my goodbyes and left to the tune of "Thank you for being a valued customer."
I then had to make it past the same man, now wishing me a good day.
Well now, I can't really complain about being treated well, can I? But I can laugh at the scripted friendliness Bank of America is trying desperately to achieve. In a world where good customer service means not slapping your customers across the face, that level of Super Friend! service is unsettling. And again, very scripted and therefore suspect. Do we need instruction on relating to people? When did people forget how to talk to each other? It's terrible, I know, to see plastic smiles and forced friendliness where big business is trying to relate to the little guy.
At least they're trying.
I was turned down for a job with Bank of America once. It was a pretty sad little situation. Work sent me to the same bank every day and I got to know the tellers. We were on a first name basis. We broke through plastic smiles and had conversations. We laughed, we cried, we banked, it was that kind of relationship. What was funny was getting to know the managers. When the tellers started saying "Apply here! We need a teller!" I ended up in an interview with people I interacted with regularly. It was a laid back, 'hey we know you already' kind of interview. They were wise enough never to say 'we're going to hire you,' but you know how word gets around. The last obstacle was the personality test. Which I failed. Suddenly, the managers weren't so bold with their friendliness. It was a wee bit awkward after that.I have despised Bank of America since. I don't bank there, I only go when work requires it. I can't say it's just BofA that's messed up in its chain of command, but I did witness it firsthand. My theory is that once your little mom and pop business gets so big that mom and pop have no idea who's on the ground floor, you've reached the point of getting blogged at. So take that, B of A.
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