Standing in line at the bank in the grocery store. Forty-five minutes before it's time to get the boys. There is one family in front of me, a man, woman and their two kids, ages approx 6 and 2. The bank counter is very busy, and the woman in front of me is clearly tired of waiting. She obviously knows the teller, Roman, and starts yelling to him. "Roman!!!! You'd better help me, man!" He glances up, acknowledges her with a nod, and goes back to helping the gentleman at the counter. "Roman, man, they never got my affidavit! So all those charges went through to my account. And Roman....my account is overdrafted by $237.00!!!" Still a look, accompanied by a nod. A line is forming behind me, and I look at my watch to discover that fifteen minutes have gone by.
The woman, obviously disgusted with having to wait and not going to take it anymore, raises her voice. "ROMAN!!!!! I know where you live. You'd better help me or I'm going to take your TV out of your car and take those nice rims off your wheels, man. You've got a pretty sweet ride. I know where your house is, so you'd better help me!" This obviously gets the teller's attention. He finishes the transaction he's working on, the man steps aside with the kids and she starts to transact her business. The conversation that lasts another fifteen minutes, both in Spanish and English, leads me to believe that she was a good friend of Roman, and he is now helping her with her problem, offering to draw up papers and bring them to her later. My eyes are nearly bursting out of my head, and everyone behind me is starting to murmur disgustedly. I am tempted to just leave and make my work deposit the next day but dammit, I am going to finish this and not let that woman win. Finally, she leaves. Roman, nonplussed, doesn't say a word about the wait, just takes my rent checks and deposit slips and runs them through, sending me off my merry way. No time for picking up a few things as planned, I've got twenty minutes to get two kids in two different places. Sigh.
Three things that I have learned from this particular exchange:
1. I now know way more about this woman's business than I should or care to know.
2. Someone obviously hasn't seen the "Yo Gabba Gabba" episode about waiting your turn. My kids are more patient than this squeaky wheel screaming for oil. And what is she teaching those two kids of hers? Push, push, push till you get what you want, no matter how much you embarrass yourself.
3. As a comparison, minus the "friendly" threats from this woman, the "squeaky wheel" mentality is what I deal with on a daily basis. If I am on the phone, oftentimes a tenant is standing at my door, staring at me through the window. If I let them in, they stand there with their arms crossed, kind of like a preschooler on the other side of the bathroom door at home. If I am interviewing someone, someone else will try to barge in and tell me all about the problem with their neighbor and their loud music/all-night fighting/attitude problem. Though patient, I am nobody's pushover. I've perfected my hand up, steely glance and "Just a minute."
I guess being a mom has trained me to be a better manager!
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