October 17, 2007

I’m standing in line at the bank, patiently waiting for the next teller. Okay, so there’s only one teller. Still, I’m waiting in line. And, I’m at lunch, so I’m in a bit of a hurry.

The customer being waited on is a young female, probably in her early 20s. Since I don’t know her name, let’s call her Steff. The teller is handling Steff’s transaction, which seems to just be a simple deposit. Steff’s cell phone rings.

“Hello? Oh, hi - what’s up. No way!”

“Blah. Blah. Blah…”

“Ma’am, you want this check deposited in which account?”

“Blah. Blah. Blah…”

“Ma’am - which account?”

Annoyed, Steff curtly instructs the teller which account. The teller is rocking that ‘kiss my ass, bitch!” look.

“Blah. Blah. Blah….” continues Steff.

“Ma’am - I need you to sign the back of the check and write down your social security number, please.”

“Blah. Blah. Laugh. Laugh. Blah. Blah. Blah…”

“Ma’am! Can you put your phone aside until we’re through here, please!”

“Excuse me?” says Steff, stunned.

“I asked if you can please put your phone aside until we’re through with this transaction.”

“Hold on,” Steff tells her caller. And in a lowered voice, “someone is telling me to get off my phone. Can you believe it? Blah, blah, blah… Yeah, no shit! Hold on, don’t hang up…”

Ma’am, there are other people waiting in line, too, and you’re holding them up. If you were paying attention, you’d be done, and I’d be waiting on someone else.” The teller, highly annoyed, continues, “Now, please endorse this check and include your social security number.”

I’m impressed - this woman’s got balls and ain’t in the mood to be messed with. I have a feeling she’s had it up to her eyeballs with customers who find their phone conversations more important than the errand to the bank.

Steff obediently does as she’s instructed, and immediately has her phone glued back to her ear again. “Blah, blah, blah…” The teller just shakes her head and completes the transaction.

As soon as she gets her receipt, Steff turns on her heels with her nose in the air and starts to walk out. My foot was so wanting to stick itself out and trip Steff - or just reach out and rip her damned phone from her hand - but I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea. Instead, as she passed me, I sent her a look to imply how friggin rude - and inconsiderate she was. Dumb bitch.

“You guys should really post a sign that says if you’re on a phone, you’re not going to get served!” I say to the teller as I approach her for my transaction.

“I wish! Do you know how many times a day this happens?” she says.

“I can imagine. I see it everywhere I go. Even in places where it’s plainly posted to turn them off.” “Idiots! Someone needs to teach them some proper phone etiquette.”

We share a laugh, she finishes my deposit, and I thank her for her time.

As I’m leaving, Steff #2 walks in. I shake my head and walk out the door. Wow, such rude bitches! Who the hell do they think they are?

Ya know, leave your phone in the car. Nothing life shattering’s going to happen in the span of five minutes that you’re away from it. Nobody else wants to hear your conversations. I promise you.

Got it? Good!

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