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…
It never seemed like I got hit with anything big that made me hate my job as a bank teller. It was always about the dozens of little things. Think of it this way, which would you find more maddening: one punch in the face at one time that you knew was coming, or thousands of tiny little pin pricks that could come at any time over a long span of years?
I made it no secret that I didn’t like the amount of money I was making in that craplousy job. I’m not saying that, as a bank teller, I should have been making astronomical amounts of cash. I just really felt that, as someone with a couple degrees under his belt, I should have been making enough to pay my few monthly expenses and maybe start making a dent in my student loans. But that just wasn’t possible. On that one paycheck, it wasn’t possible to even meet those monthly expenses without the help of a second job. As a single man with no family, should I have really been forced to take on a second job? I really didn’t have that many expenses. I didn’t spend a lot of money. I didn’t even like to buy much when it came to groceries, and even then I stuck to the mostly generic stuff.
So I wasn’t making much, that subject has been covered. Another problem was that I was only working a 35 hour work week. I was still called “full-time,” but I just wasn’t getting the 40 hours that all the other full-time employees were able to enjoy For a while, I was scheduled to work five days a week, but with two half days worked in. Eventually, it became apparent that it would be much more convenient, and would cause me to spend less money on gas each week, if I were to take one full day off instead of the two half days. I found this to be an okay trade-off. I only got my 35 hours a week, but I got Wednesday off every week.
Up to a certain point in my history with the bank, I recorded my time by going into the online time sheet to just fill in my hours as they were given to me on the printed schedule. I generally went ahead and filled in the entire week as soon as I had the schedule, that way I wouldn’t forget to input my time when it was due because it was already done. One day, I was informed that this was inappropriate and inaccurate.
Inputting my time in that manner gave me exactly 35 hours every week. However, human resources wanted us to be accurate, to the minute, with our time. Before you start yelling at me about how doing otherwise would be unethical, let me explain that I understand HR’s position here. But from the perspective of one who barely made ends meet as it was, it really felt like the bank was just nickel and diming me out of even getting the pitiful 35 hours that I was scheduled to get. See, I wasn’t allowed to go over that 35. But by saying the exact minute that I arrived and left, it would be nearly impossible to reach 35 either.
Again, I got the ethics of the situation. But, to me, it still just felt like the powers that be were trying to find new ways of making me want to quit while simultaneously making me not care that I had no other means of supporting myself.
I just wanted a new job. I just wanted a job that didn’t make me dread waking up each morning to face the new day. I just wanted a job that didn’t make me want to jerk the wheel of the car causing me to careen off a bridge into the Neuse River just so I wouldn’t have to go back the next day. I just wanted a job that didn’t make me hate my position in life. And it would have been nice if I could have had a job that allowed me to live my life and not have to stress out about whether or not I would have enough money at the end of the week to buy groceries or put gas in my car. Anyone out there think that was too much to ask?
Believe me, I understood that I should have been nothing but grateful for the fact that I even had a job in the economy I was facing. More often than not, I was grateful, even for that going-nowhere-zero-respect job. But there were a lot of times when I was ungrateful and I just needed to vent. And if I couldn’t vent on a blog, where could I vent?