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…
I’ve mentioned this girl before. She came to my bank, I’d say, once or twice a week. And when she came to the drive through, as opposed to strolling into the lobby, it just about made my day.
Don’t get me wrong, I never complained whenever she came into the lobby. But the odds of my being her teller of the day drastically decreased when she came inside. So I liked it much better when she pulled up in her big, white SUV.
It was her smile that always got me. I was never sure what she was smiling at. Maybe she was just returning the smile that I was required to give as a bank employee. I don’t think it was because she had a thing for me. I mean, she was wicked hot. Hot girls, as a rule, don’t generally smile at me.
My co-workers noticed that I was slightly nicer to this girl than to the typical customer. Thus, they generally gave me a hard time. Most of the time, they were kind enough to wait until she drove away to let their lighthearted ribbing begin. One time, it began while she was still there. One of the lobby tellers asked if she needed to grab the window since there was also someone in the second lane. I laughed, but said I was pretty sure I could get it.
So this was my dilemma: I wasn’t sure what to call her. On her account, she had her first, middle, and last name. Checks that she deposited were made out with her first name. But on her deposit ticket, she wrote her middle name. So I thought that would be a good ice breaker. I had called her by her first and middle names in the past, but never at the same time. I figured I could ask what she preferred to be called. Or maybe that would have been creepy.It was suggested by a co-worker that I ask her out by writing a note on the back of one of my business cards. Then, if she wanted, she could call me. If not, she wouldn’t have to feel like I had put her on the spot when she went to say no.
Maybe that was the way to go. At the time, I hadn’t been on a date or even asked a girl out since college. And the last girl I’d asked out said no. So maybe I should have been more worried about what would happen if she’d said yes. Not sure that the car I was driving at the time would have made a good impression. Jade was falling apart.
Okay, the car wasn’t really falling apart, but she was getting old. She was making noises that she’d never made before. Not exactly impressive on a first date.
Then again, if I could have taken her to dinner or something, I wouldn’t have wanted to be one of those guys that tried to impress a girl with lies. I’d hope that I would be comfortable enough to be myself. I mean, eventually she’d have found out that I was quickly on the way to driving a clunker.
What do you think I should’ve done? Would the business card thing have been a good move? Seriously, it had been a long time since I’d asked a girl out. We’re talking, tail end of the Clinton years, maybe Bush’s first 100 days at best…