Trouble at the bank

I know, I know. Who needs to go to a bank in this day and age? Am I that much of a dinosaur? Well no, but when it comes to technology I think my mum is.

And so it was that I had to go to the bank to sort out mum’s stuff. And when are the banks open? Business hours. And who am I during business hours? Loretta! This is one of the main reasons I went to get my photo card. I don’t look anything like the photo in my driver’s license. But I do look like the cute girl on my photo card 🙂

Anyway to the bank. I don’t worry about going to the bank anymore. I’m there regularly thanks to mum! And so most of the staff know me now. This time however there was a teller I didn’t recognise. And of course out of the three, she was the one to serve me.

Things were going very smoothly as I explained the transaction I wanted to make. Then I swiped my card and entered my PIN. My accounts must have come up on screen then and the teller had a frowny face.

“Whose card do you have?” she asks. I tell her it’s mine. “Because it’s coming up with different details.” I know the ‘different details’ are that she sees Loretta in front of her and not boyname whose name the account is in. Before she can ask I give her my photo card and smile. It’s a genuinely happy smile, because I know that there is no way that she can imagine that I’m a boy.

She looks at me, looks at my photo card, looks at her screen, looks at my photo card. And her frowny face changes to confused face as the evidence starts to mount in my favour. I’m sure she doesn’t know what to do next when her supervisor sitting in the next window says “Yes that’s her.” The confused face slowly goes away as she finally understands.

And then it’s just a normal banking transaction. Finally she no longer looks bewildered and she returns to her usual smiling customer service face, and the matching customer service.

This is another one of those times when things don’t run as smoothly as I’d like. But at the same time it makes me feel good about myself as it reinforces my femininity. I guess it’s like being told that ‘you look pretty.’ And my ego just laps it up!

Photo by Fabian Blank

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