In the world of banking, the people on the front lines of the industry are known as tellers. These are the people who are expected to help customers with all of their day to day banking needs. It is often a thankless and miserable position to hold. These are their stories. These are their legends…
Each week, the bank employees were required to show up early for a degrading ordeal which was designed to make us feel guilty about not meeting our ridiculous sales goals. I, for one, refused to feel guilty. In fact, more often than not, I refused to care.
But I did feel angry. The manager liked to use the word “we” a lot. I mean, a whole lot. But never did she let us know what “I” did. By “I”, I mean “she”.
Granted, my “goal” for the previous week was lowered from the standard. Because I hadn’t met the goal. Came pretty darn close, but I didn’t meet it. Manager-lady’s goal for the previous week was to open 8 new accounts. She never mentioned if she met that goal. I assume she didn’t because, without saying a word, she changed her goal the next week to 4. If lowering my goal means I wasn’t able to reach it last week, logic dictates that she was unable to meet hers either.
I knew I sucked at selling crap that people didn’t need to people who didn’t need it. But at least I was man enough to admit it. When she was calling the tellers out, it took every ounce of restraint not to ask her about her goals.
They could talk to me and “coach” me until they were blue in the face, but it wouldn’t do anything to change my comfort level when talking to customers. It wouldn’t have changed my morals regarding trying to sucker someone into getting a line of credit when they were probably up to their eyeballs in debt anyway.
I’m really glad I got out of banking. Eventually…