Yesterday, I took advantage of not being on campus (it's Reading Week) and went to the bank.
I almost never go to the bank. I wrangle all our bill payments online, the mortgage, insurance, and property taxes are all handled automagically via scheduled payments, and if I need cash or have a cheque to deposit, I visit an ATM. This works for me, except for those times it doesn't - when there's some administrative detail about one of the accounts that needs me to show up and talk to a person and sign a form in their presence, for example. A couple of these in-person errands came up, so I went to the bank.
Since it was 10:45 AM on a Thursday morning, I figured I could just waltz in there and do my business without too much trouble. I might have to wait a bit to see the right person, but that's okay - that's the price you pay when you don't plan ahead enough to have made an appointment, right? So I walked in, presented myself to the reception desk, and told the nice employee who greeted me what I wanted to do. She said, Sure thing, and then suggested that I go to the teller to do my other bit of banking business while she found someone who could do what I needed done. Great.
I went to the teller line, and waited my turn. I had a bond to deposit - a bond in the Mister's name. When I got to a teller, I handed over the bond, she pulled up the account information, entered everything into the computer, then turned the document over and said, Oh, it's not signed. It needs to be signed by the holder before it can be deposited.
I just blinked at her. Oh, I said. She turned to one of her colleagues and double-checked, and he confirmed that it needs to be signed by the holder - it didn't matter that I was trying to put it into an account with the holder's name on it as well. Since I was quite obviously not the person whose signature was needed, all I could do was meekly take it back.
I returned to the reception area, spirits dampened somewhat. The woman I'd spoken to earlier returned, with an apologetic smile on her face. As it turned out, the sort of bank employee I needed to help me with my other errand was not available - as in, none of them were in the branch. At 11 AM. On a Thursday.
Thoroughly defeated, I booked an appointment for next week.
There may be a lesson here. I'm still too peeved to learn it, though.
I almost never go to the bank. I wrangle all our bill payments online, the mortgage, insurance, and property taxes are all handled automagically via scheduled payments, and if I need cash or have a cheque to deposit, I visit an ATM. This works for me, except for those times it doesn't - when there's some administrative detail about one of the accounts that needs me to show up and talk to a person and sign a form in their presence, for example. A couple of these in-person errands came up, so I went to the bank.
Since it was 10:45 AM on a Thursday morning, I figured I could just waltz in there and do my business without too much trouble. I might have to wait a bit to see the right person, but that's okay - that's the price you pay when you don't plan ahead enough to have made an appointment, right? So I walked in, presented myself to the reception desk, and told the nice employee who greeted me what I wanted to do. She said, Sure thing, and then suggested that I go to the teller to do my other bit of banking business while she found someone who could do what I needed done. Great.
I went to the teller line, and waited my turn. I had a bond to deposit - a bond in the Mister's name. When I got to a teller, I handed over the bond, she pulled up the account information, entered everything into the computer, then turned the document over and said, Oh, it's not signed. It needs to be signed by the holder before it can be deposited.
I just blinked at her. Oh, I said. She turned to one of her colleagues and double-checked, and he confirmed that it needs to be signed by the holder - it didn't matter that I was trying to put it into an account with the holder's name on it as well. Since I was quite obviously not the person whose signature was needed, all I could do was meekly take it back.
I returned to the reception area, spirits dampened somewhat. The woman I'd spoken to earlier returned, with an apologetic smile on her face. As it turned out, the sort of bank employee I needed to help me with my other errand was not available - as in, none of them were in the branch. At 11 AM. On a Thursday.
Thoroughly defeated, I booked an appointment for next week.
There may be a lesson here. I'm still too peeved to learn it, though.
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