My Friend Mike
It has been one of those days, full of run-arounds with electronic answering responses, none of which are helpful, many of which simply tell me that I don’t really exist then cheerily hang up. I am not pleased. In fact, my language has become more and more colorful by the moment. It’s a good thing I am retired and no one can hear me.
My biggest frustration involves a new bank. “New” in the sense that our previous bank, one with whom I loved doing business, now has a different name. So far, I am not impressed. The woman with whom my sister-in-law and I had a conversation last month establishing a ranch account, initially says she remembers us, but she refers to a situation in which we could not possibly have been involved. The app that I downloaded accepts my ID and Passcode, then offers to send a security code to a number that belongs to neither my sister-in-law nor me. When I call the number affixed to the debit card sent me by said bank and try to activate it, a male voice consistently tells me the last four digits of my social security number are not really the last four and then hangs up on me. My language becomes more colorful. And louder.
Finally, I call the bank branch itself, and an actual person answers. Mike. My new best friend. He immediately apologizes for the challenges I have been experiencing and acknowledges I am not alone in finding on-line navigation impossible. He quickly has me laughing. My language reverts to acceptable. As does my blood pressure.
I appreciate technology, really I do. I am not so keen on technology that hangs up on me without giving me the option of connecting with a human. While in my 70’s, I’m actually pretty adept at maneuvering through the ether. There are millions of folks my age who are not. Millions with millions in the very banks that can be such a challenge to access.
The power of a friendly, competent voice is extraordinary. Mike promised to return my call once he has explored whatever glitches exist. I know he will. Then I will contact his supervisor and give Mike the credit he deserves. We all need to do that when someone helps us. Too many people only make the effort when they have complaints. When I make calls to express appreciation, supervisors are delighted and appreciative right back. Being the bearer of good tidings is a gift given and received. Try it.
Two hours later, Mike has called back – just before the end of the work day on Friday — and I am able to access my account. I ask to speak to his supervisor. Turns out that he is the supervisor. Wise appointment, new bank.
Glass Full 