The Stressed Bank Teller

Like most people, my everyday chores and whatnot are pretty uneventful.  My last visit to the store to buy ice cream sundae supplies and chicken (items listed in order of importance) needs no elaboration, nor did anything exciting happen during my most recent trip to the post office.  (Actually, a lady cut in line.  It was weird.)  As I peruse my dull and tiresome memories revolving around life’s daily duties, one memory springs to mind of a rather humorous trek through the bank drive-through (is it called that…when you talk to the bank teller from your car…or is that just the term given to fast food restaurants?) over ten years ago.

There’s actually not much to say, so this post will be really short.  Nevertheless, I think this one’s worth sharing.  Many years ago, Mother Duck and I went to the bank, as we so often did.  We decided to speak to the teller through the drive-through…thingy, though this detail really doesn’t make a difference.  Normally, the teller just…does whatever it is you came to the bank for.  Simple.  This teller, well, she did her job just fine, no problem there, but the entire time, she just kept squeezing this stress ball in one fist.

The whole time.

Why she was so stressed, I am uncertain.  I can only imagine the previous customer was particularly unpleasant, something I would assume could ruin the rest of one’s day.  (I would know, as I worked a long and depressing year in customer service some years ago.  There were a lot of angry people…and a lot of people who needed detailed instructions on how to log into Gmail.  It was…a weird year.)

It might seem a bit odd that something seemingly so trivial stuck in my head…but I simply can’t forget the stressed out bank teller.  Hopefully the rest of the poor dear’s day went better, but considering she already had a stress ball handy, I assume being a bank teller wasn’t exactly her ideal position.  I could have used one during my year of customer servitude…ahem, I mean service.  (Seriously, such a weird year.  I had to explain to other people that there was nothing wrong with their computers just because their Internet was slow when the microwave was on.  I feel stressed just thinking about it.)

I guess the lesson of this blog post is…be kind to all those brave people who have a career working with other people.  Because, frankly, human interaction is stressful.  Bye bye!

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