so, last week i went to a workshop. while there, a colleague was showing me her pink bank card. it was the mostly lovely shade of pink. and, it was for a good cause–breast cancer awareness. i knew, immediately, i wanted one of those cards. and not just wanted, i needed it. it’s pink, it’s me, and it’s for a good cause. and, just my luck, there’s a bank branch that carries those cards just down the street from my house.
i did what any woman in my situation would do. i convinced my husband i needed one. despite the fact that it would mean opening a new checking account and giving him yet another financial thing to balance and budget; he agreed. my hero. he even went online and chatted with someone from the bank and got everything all set up. the final step: go to the bank and sign on the dotted line. and wait by the mailbox for that pink card….that’s what pto days are for, yes?
saturday, i managed to get out of bed, shower, and put on clothes -instead of clean jammies, which are normal saturday attire, in my opinion. clean sweatpants and t-shirt, i was set to go. we drove to the bank…..
those who know me know that i despise banks. not only is there the perpetual fear of would-be bank robbers (which in my head, i always manage to outsmart and de-arm), there’s the typical bank environment. and this bank had zero personality –no color, only the absence of it. no cozy, victorian era chairs, only small, impersonal ones. no tellers who greeted me, just silent ones.
the guy who ended up gracing me with his presence wore a suit jacket that didn’t quite go with his shirt. and i don’t think it was on purpose, b/c he wasn’t bubbly and unique. he was demeaning and grouchy. he didn’t call me by name. but, i think he wanted to call me names by the time we were finished meeting.
my kids started clamouring the minute we walked in: “can we get some coffee”. there was a small, round table, neatly covered in a linen tablecloth with a coffee pot and creamers (both liquid and powder) off to one side –away from the view of the camers, so anyone could have stolen that coffee/cream ensemble and no one would have been the wiser about the culprit.
we sat with mr. impersonal. he wanted to briefly talk about the nuances of his amazing checking account. he asked me what i was going to use the checking account for and why i chose this particular bank.
my response: i only want the checking account so that i can have a pink check card.
his response: imagine high levels of loathing in his face. he didn’t say much of anything. not even a chuckle or a “hey, you tellers, this idiot woman is opening up a checking account to get a pink check card”. nothing. nada.
suffice it to say he didn’t bother telling me anything about the checking account. the one thing he did tell me: we don’t carry the pink card anymore.
my whole day felt ruined with that statement. how could you not carry the pink check card? mr. fashionable went on to say that if i wanted to, i could choose between two other “personalized” cards —both of which carried some sports team logo/colors. um, thanks, but no thanks.
i mentioned the pink checks they carried –he said, they do carry them. i told him i didn’t want them, but if you carry pink checks affiliated with the race for the cure, surely you carry a pink check card. apparently not. i asked him if there was anyone else i could ask about the pink card. he said no. my only guess: perhaps the other people in the building didn’t talk? or they weren’t allowed to answer questions? i’m not sure.
after several minutes, the guy was done with me. and he could have cared less if i ever got a pink check card. my kids were still asking for coffee. i decided to tell them like it was; just like the guy told me. —just like the pink check card was discontinued, so were the coffee cups. remember; on that pretty little table there was a table cloth, coffee pot, and creamers.
and no pink check card