DAY 30: Banking Attitude

I fail to understand how my bank chooses to employ, or in this case allocate, an individual with no public relations skills as their customer consultant.

I was often led to believe that one of the prerequisites for a person answering the phone, should be to smile. I’m not suggesting that the individual overcooks a bubbly response, but a warm tone can suggest an inviting approach – reassuring the caller that his or her needs will be met.

This is certainly not the case with my consultant, who managed to portray a modern-day Medusa, spitting venom throughout my conversation on the phone.  When I had the opportunity to meet this discourteous individual, I failed to find that small element – an indication, if you like, that deep beneath that beastly exterior, is an angel that needs to find her wings.

So after an intimidating five minutes, melancholy returned, bringing on the hopeless pains of hunger.  This intolerable woman had managed to undo all my psychologists’ triumphs, instilling negative emotion, exorcising the evil Mr. Hyde out of my body.  I even felt compelled to visit the bank, with a threatening force of “I’ll take my business elsewhere,” and knocking a sense of compassion into this wretched woman.

Its common knowledge that most government employees (banks included), take their job seriously.  I have no problem with that, but I do have a problem with their approach.  Doctors, for example, believe that we owe them our lives, and in return should remain indebted for their services.  Greece has recently launched a website: www.edosafakelaki.org which showcases a deplorable list of people who have admitted to paying black money for services in the medical sector.  So much for the Hippocratic Oath ethic…

When I was hospitalised for six months after my car accident in 2008, it was implied by the orthopedic surgeon that if I had furnished him with two laptops for his daughters, I would be transferred to a private room in the ward.  The closest he came to a set of laptops, was when I pointed out the twenty percent discount offered by the local electronics store.

Back at the post office, the consultant behind the desk feels that we should be aware of the custom charges for sending a parcel to London or South Africa.  She continues to be the foulest person in the office, stamping away – using the force of an elephant as she continues to plough through her short pile of envelopes.

I can recall my childhood memories of the local librarian, expressing the utmost sensitivity for an overdue library book.  Her stereotypical daunting exterior – a pair of dated 60s-shaped reading glasses supported by a dangling chain around her neck, her cardigan thrown over her shoulders – pinned at the top with a cameo pin, and her hair tied in a bun and held together by a sharpened pencil, inspired a horror scene for The Exorcist. 

Thankfully, her bullying manner did not repel me from visiting and borrowing.

I’ve spent the last hour leaving messages for the bank manager, hoping that my complaint will finally exhort this woman into an office with no windows or oxygen.  Forgive my brutal behaviour, but I strongly feel that the banks in Cyprus have no room to exercise arrogance.  Had they managed their own finances effectively, then we (as a country) would not be knocking on the doors of our neighbours asking for an incomprehensible bailout plan.

“Medusa, if you’re reading my blog, your time as a customer consultant is up.  I’ve had enough of your pompous stance, demeaning brashness and pitiable voice.  Your manager just called, and I’m on my way to change your world – you can bank on that!”

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com