Banking on Insanity

On the bright side, I have had more time to catch up on my writing. On the dark side, much of the time was initially preoccupied by obsessing over WTF happened that gifted me such liberty. I may have it figured out, so I can switch to decaf and get it out calmly and resume screenplays and filming and short stories and my often-neglected blogs. The part of my life that pays the rent paid less of it this past month because the Monday after Friday the 13th I got home to find a voice-mail that instructed me not to go back to work but to report in a couple of days to head office and nobody knew the details. On Wednesday I found out the details. %%%%%%%##$@&*(?%% At a bank where I had been a guard for a couple of months, there is a Branch Manager whom for confidentiality reasons we will call the BM and her assistant manager whom we will call Ass. Upon my first arrival at the site for a 9AM shift, I saw that the branch has a 10AM opening time and I asked the lady who had let me in where the security guard normally stays from 9 to 10. I was told, “The best thing to do is wait in the lunch room until 9:30 or just before open.” I wrote this down in my memo book and nobody challenged it over the months ahead. The managers signed my time sheets which clearly said 0900 hours was my start time and you expect that bank managers will certainly read anything they sign, but Ass eventually told me she didn’t realize I started at nine. She asked me about a Saturday guard who had arrived at 9:30 one day and had spent all day outside without a break. Ass asked me whether I was from the same company, and she managed to float that question several times and getting straight answers even though it apparently was not a straight question. She said only after 3PM did a staffer ask him about a break and he then took one. I told her it might have been an idea for him to be briefed by someone but that the site wasn’t set up that way since guards don’t see each other. I mentioned the occurrence log pad he could reference I had kept at the top of the stairwell that leads downstairs to the lunch room. She said, “Yes, I noticed that.” And she mentioned to have a bit of mustard on that remark as if there was some sort of error of judgement on my part but I let it go. After all, if she is a MANAGER or even ASSISTANT MANAGER she would know to speak directly in a business environment especially with a security guard and not to be cute. Granted, this is a person who for the first few weeks usually wore white framed glasses that underscored her batty personality. She said the other guard never saw the log because he never went downstairs to a break. Message: absolute zero concern for whether a contractor gets a legally entitled break. %$#$$#@!&?#%%% That is the closest she came to asking what she wanted to ask, which was why I was downstairs at the top of my shift. On another day, she said that it had been a topic of discussion with the BM that I could be sleeping downstairs for all she knew. Though it had not been a conversation to which I was invited. There had been several occasions over the past month and a half where this could have been broached or better yet simply asked about. I had complained of the garbage smell to the BM, I had several times answered the phone “Basement” and got a laugh from a staffer who was just looking to see if other staff had been seen there, and I had also almost knocked people with the door while returning upstairs and only gotten a laugh. There had been nothing to do downstairs but have my coffee and maybe breakfast and look at a paper. Whatever rituals they went through from 9 to 10 they did without me and without a peep about it, and fully aware that I was downstairs. Nobody thought to ask “Who told you to be posted downstairs?” Because that is a sane question that might have an answer. Instead, the preference of BM and Ass is for rhetorical questions; they make a judgement and an assume, and THEN ask as if they know what kind of scam is being pulled. In other words, they view people through their own duplicitous nature. Less than a week after a bank robbery, the Ass was in charge and obviously had no concern about a guard’s presence on the main floor. This was about April 4, 2012. I came upstairs to find that the rear door of the branch was gone. I felt like my fly was open and nobody wanted to tell me. I asked the Ass about it and why she thought I didn’t have to be told and she waved it off. I asked if money was exposed – the very conditions that mean we do not open the ATM vestibule door for a staff member who is alone – and yes, it was but it was okay that the rear of the bank with the vaults open was okay and there was no need to call a second guard just because there are too doors to cover and there was no need to give me a heads-up the previous day about this expected service call and after all there are three (actually two it turned out) contractors outside working on the door “and they have tools, so nobody will get past them.” I went through and saw that yes everything was exposed and I stepped outside to cover that end of the building and say hello to the contractors. The bank robbers had historically always come from this end of the branch. Ass eventually came outside and said that the workers will be there all day so there is no point standing at the removed door and I should mostly be at the front and just check back once in a while. Pretty loose. I snapped a couple of photos just to prove that I had been there and knew about the door. I figured if anything went wrong I could report it but the day was uneventful. Except for the stress. %%%%#$@%&*?>@%%%% The next week was a full week that the BM was on vacation so Ass was in charge. She again mostly communicated indirectly which was frustrating but as a guard one can’t be expected to say to management “THIS is the effective way to communicate and THAT is not.” The specifics that came out were that I should pace once in a while along the far perimeter, but even then she added, “I’m not telling you what to do, just giving a heads-up.” This begged a comment about the heads-up that would have been great when the door was going to be removed, but I said nothing. I did the walk back and forth and wondered why a manager would add “I’m not telling you what to do.” They should know a security guard is at the disposal of management. She also finally mentioned that they need me to come upstairs between 9 and 10 and mentioned a 9:30 vault thing that had to be done and for which I should be present. For the rest of the week after being finally told I followed that amendment. %%@!#$%%$#?%%%%%%%%% The routine then becomes this: a) Accessed into branch just before 9 or at 9 by whoever of the one or two staff are already inside. . . . . b) Then I go downstairs and if the light is off I flick it on and take this to mean that the first employee in did not search the basement **. I conduct the search to make sure there isn’t some lurking criminal. c) I call the security company to report on duty. d) I use the washroom, a duty that ranges in duration e) I complete putting on my uniform (** Basement search is a sensitive issue, because I wouldn’t want every staff grilled about neglecting this part of the routine. I first heard about the morning ritual which I will not elaborate on in public and mentioned to the Ass that BM did not do a certain thing when she had me wait for her site check rounds, and instead of giving a straight answer like “You saw her go in, so there needs be no indication that she is inside” she glared at me and I let it go. I thought she was just having a quirky moment. I later found out that she told the tellers that I was a tattle-tale, even though it is odd to consider a note about the manager to the assistant manager a tattle-tale. That should be considered a non-issue of a guard admitting this is the first he has heard of this part of the morning ritual.) #%%$#@@#??*&%%%% Common sense and the last couple of shifts would indicate to anyone that clearly it is about 9:10 before I get upstairs. On the Monday as I was unpacking my uniform I realized I had to – pardon the explicit specifics, but they are a factor – urinate one last little bit. The actually nice right hand of Ass, whom I could name Old Lace, entered the washroom and delayed me. He took much longer than expected. I began to tear out an item from a free subway newspaper to put in my pocket and I was doing this when Old Lace emerged. He reminded me that Ass had told me to go upstairs after 9 and I agreed I would be right up after a quick pee. I went up in uniform with my coffee as I had on other days and not a word was said to me about anything. But according to information my boss received in those few minutes at the top of the shift Ass and BM arrived. BM was back from vacation and apparently it was regarded as a failure of Ass that I was not seated uselessly upstairs as promised. They chose to do whatever vault related routine is usually done later immediately so that they would be able to report something dramatic. “While _____ vault was being done, the guard was seen downstairs reading the newspaper.” Well, that is at least misleading and a lie of omission. %%%@#$$@&??*%%%%%% I don’t know if there is anything to learn from it. The Occurrence Log into which I copied my memo book notes at the end of the day or any item that needed a report was a standard-issue tool of security. There wasn’t one on site when I first arrived but one was delivered by a mobile supervisor within the first few weeks. My one theory is that this communication-averse Ass might not have realized that security guards provide this log as a reference for both managers (the client) on a location and any supervisors from security that do a site check. While it is the right of the managers to read this, and it was kept in plain view so they and new guards have access to it, my combined hindsight is that neither Ass or BM realized that they were to be the main viewers of it and may have treated it as a form of “tattle-tale” about who directs the guard or how a situation plays out and even perhaps the special day of the missing door. The reaction of two functional sociopaths (the professional, polite way to say assholes) might be more extreme than a relatively sane person would ever anticipate. I’m not sure there is a way to spoon feed these people to avert embarrassment or a sense of challenge. When I have tried to explain something even early on what was heard was, “You are wrong” and the eye-knives were out. I knew after a couple of days on the site that I wanted a transfer but I was not allowed. I had to make a go of it. I didn’t even bail after the bank robbery. But in hindsight I am thinking of the BM and the Ass and I am flabbergasted that THESE are people I stood expecting to protect even when I was at my most anxious. %%??@@@##@$$&%%%%%% I try not to show fear, for obvious reasons, but that is also across the board. I don’t have much of a poker face, and so I can only guess that when a little Napoleon ruling a fiefdom sees that someone is cool and calm and not rattled by the same mental ticks that keep tellers in line maybe they hold that person at a distance. Funny thing is that they were better off with me not observing the way they treat staff. “I don’t remember asking if you had an issue,” I heard Ass tell Old Lace once. And that is a loyal and solid employee. I remember her telling a head teller, “By the way, I found out what Cruella DeVille means.” At first she butchered the name and the teller had to correct her, “Cruella DeVille.” But leaving that aside, it says something about a person who had to “find out” what that name refers to. Even if she hadn’t seen 101 Dalmatians, who doesn’t get the joke of that name? It is apt in the sense that she is over-the top and prone to flamboyant gestures as if she thinks she is on stage but there is no audience. One night she put on her coat early and announced she is going home then the tellers remarked on something else that needed to be done and she put on a big show of returning and pointed to me at the door, “And YOU!” as if I had any involvement in the discussion. If she had been funny, it might have been a moment of whimsy, which I pretended it was. And other times when the head teller was doing a run of charming silly-talk amid her duties, “Meow said the cat, meow said the cat who is me” she will be curtly admonished to shut up by the flaky nimrod Ass. %%#@@@##$$$@%%%%%% In the afternoons when the book drop bag is done the guard has been present but not called or required. The guard has been on hand to answer the door but has also been advised by Ass not to open the door at all because of a rule that only bank staff open the door. This rule is applied inconsistently as their convenience allows. Ass is either a liar or a scatterbrain. Or both. %%%##$#@@@#$%%%%%% What is especially galling is to think back on the last day I had there and little moments where Ass knew friggin’ well that it was my last day and I did not. At 4PM there were no clients to let out and the door was locked, so I did as usual – and even as I had on the previous weeks – I went downstairs to use the washroom knowing that I may be waiting to leave another hour and also after having spent a couple of hours outside. As I get out of the washroom I don’t even get a chance to check my voice-mail. If I had the day would have ended on a different note. Ass is yelling downstairs like a moron, “Hello. Hell-ooo! Hellooooo!” so I rush to the stairwell with by bag since I usually keep it either at the top of the stairs to easily access or with me. Ass is loudly asking why I am not upstairs and I tell her I was in the washroom. I frankly took a lot of shit from her right there that I would not have taken if I had heard my voice-mail advising me not to come in. Maybe she knew there was a danger I would check my messages and confront her. During the day when I asked to take lunch I had a 15 to 20-minute delay because Ass was downstairs. She happened to take her break when it would conflict with mine. She came to the door and asked in a false-cute voice, “You have to go?” And I mentioned just my lunch; no event. In hindsight that plays back as an inside joke just for her. At the end of the day we got the usual bum’s rush. Wait around doing nothing and having nothing brought to my attention and being shown utter indifference about where I am for the book-drop box or the vault or ATM refilling or whatever they do for which security is not included (and which I couldn’t detail here anyway because it is public). She reluctantly takes my time sheet and asks the time and I show her my watch and she says, “We don’t look at the time, we just want everybody out.” Well, again that is a non-bank way of thinking. It is as if day for day they officially have a point where people have to stay until a certain thing is done, but when there are too many hours being claimed they will book people out with this unfinished. And that happens more with Ass than with BM. But it would be naive to think that both are not equally responsible and equally clueless. I didn’t even know until my final day where the first aid kit was. It was in a vault. I heard the BM asking a teller to get it when she had a piece of glass in her shoe. You know, either you can let the guard pull teeth trying to find out where everything is or you can just have a prepared brief: ---- Here’s where the first aid kit is kept, here’s where the fire extinguishers are, let one of us know when you need to use the washroom or go for lunch, and if your shift extends after close or before open just sit up here instead of in the stinky lunch room. Even though there’s really nothing for you to stand beside and guard, we may as well have you present.------ Is that asking so much of a brief from the Branch Manager/boss/client ? %%%%%%%%%%#####$$$@@@# You know a security company is going to want to get along with everybody and keep the account active, so a guard won’t push. And you might even get the guy who stays outside – locked out for the beginning of the shift – with no break just to show how dutiful he is and completely at the mercy of people who actually know what is needed and what is expected. I am at a loss to parlay this into an instruction booklet, but it could stand as a case study. The post-mortem has taken up far too much of my own personal time, thought and energy already. I do take for granted that a forensic aftermath is necessary for my own processing of an unjust situation and how it came about and what principles can be extracted if any to move forward. With all due respect, I am way past any consideration of my own culpability. I am done considering that theoretical element. The customer is not always right, when the customer is fragmented into camps that have to plot and contrive as BM and Ass did in order to submit a misleading complaint against me to corporate so as to avoid having the pathologies of their whims considered. I am told by a friend who ran corporate seminars that these communication problems are not uncommon and that it is called “bridging the gap.” But I think it goes beyond communication and into sinister character. %%$#@@%%%%%% This one bank was perhaps a worse place to work than I realized. But it was more than 40 hours a week at a relatively decent rate and I was blissfully ignorant of the full extent of malice behind what seemed to be mere quirks. I don’t know if the next guard got a better briefing or better luck. Most of the staff was quite nice and approachable. The Branch Manager and Assistant Manager had something twitchy under the surface that often made the rest of the staff appear rattled. I remember one especially nice employee being routinely abused verbally by Ass and firmly keeping a smile as if maybe the rant was just kidding and not a psychotic break from reality. But even when Ass rests her hands under her chin on the counter and bats her eyes at someone she is usually doing this with something sarcastic and rhetorical that assumes the other person is an idiot. . . .I’m not saying I’M not an idiot. I have my blind spots. But a misleading, disparaging report is not acceptable when it would be easier to just say, "Will, you are too fat for this branch" or, "Will I'm afraid you might some day write a blog about us, and we don't want you to be a tattle-tale." Now those would be fair reasons to boot a guard who actually cared about what he was doing. I don't know how much spin is currently being done or how I am shrugged off, but a bad manager does a lot more damage than even a mediocre guard (and I'm about as good as they come in my price range). A manager might (like most banks) visit the competition and pretend to be a client to learn how others handle things and what the rates are, and this one has been patted on the head for that kind of activity that is pretty typical "shopping" and comparing of notes so maybe a certain level of duplicity and dishonesty is necessary. Except that researching the competition is fair and misrepresenting the facts is not. My first impulse was to blame myself and take hyper-responsibility because after all I should be able to read minds and I should err on the side of imposing myself and spoon-feeding the basics to people who supposedly have been managing banks for a while. It is easy to pass the buck, but one would think if the buck stops anywhere it would be with a bank manager.