GREEN GREEN EVERYWHERE

There comes a point in every Customer Service Representative's life when you're expected to know the regulars by name. Especially when it's part of the job description. In accordance, I'm expected to make more of an effort to be able to greet our regulars by their first name. Be friendly.

A familiar elderly man entered the branch today. My co-worker greeted him as Howard.

It should be noted I was raised by a mother with an Asian background, whereas I was made to believe the very notion of greeting someone older by their first name was drilled out of me by the age of three. It should also be noted that a healthy majority of our clientele are either Asian or European, making their last names less than simple to remember.

Howard it is, then.

He immediately drifted to my neighbor, speaking loudly about not wanting to provide picture identification to me seeing as I was new and didn't recognize him.

So much for being friendly.

Now that I've gotten used to normal transactions, I've spent less time worrying about my performance and more time noticing that most of our customers are quite awesome. Those who aren't really aren't and end up being the main subject of conversation between my co-workers and I for the rest of the day.

I suppose the moral of the story is show courtesy to your bank tellers or else we'll spend the rest of our shift mocking the implications of your lifestyle provided by the history of your recent transactions.

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A friend of mine, Mr. M, recently got into a car accident and even more recently purchased himself a brand-new car instead of fixing his old one with an amount of money exceeding its very worth.

Not ten minutes after I came home from an eight-hour work day, I received the honor of an invite to be his first passenger.

And so I changed and he picked me up in a sleek little number, its black paint job gleaming with a polish only new cars ever possess. Then commenced store browsings and sprinkled chocolate-covered marshmallow-kebabs and good times with Bruce Willis. The way and good Saturday should be spent.

I wonder what Frank Moses would order from Rocky Mountain Chocolate.