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Of Cat Food and Sweater Vests


Have you ever noticed that someone at a get-together will always ask where someone connected to you is? For some reason it is ingrained in the casual conversation formula. It is most apparent when you have a significant other. "Where's betty at?" "She's right over there ten feet away from us, actually." In a less awkward instance that person won't actually be there and you can give her whereabouts to the person: "She's actually in Montana shepherding mountain goats." I find the latter instance is much more conducive to further conversation, as the former readily gives way to an awkward and prolonged pause.

I brought that thought up to my co-worker at the bank as we were toiling away aka standing outside the branch's door desperately waiting for someone, anyone to approach us. There are times where I get a little over-eager and almost shout a jaunty "GOOD MORNING!" to someone rapidly passing by almost out of earshot. Those people avoid eye contact with a desperation akin to Bobby Fischer avoiding U.S. taxes.

Another conversation piece frequently utilized in social gatherings is "How's the new job; what is it again?" At this point I start out with "I'm a financial sales consultant for PNC Bank; it's great!" After being asked what that entails (naturally) I explain: "I open accounts, take credit card and loan applications, and generally speak to people regarding their current financial landscape and where I can save them money." Most people are pretty impressed. I mean, my senior superlative in college was "most likely to live in a cardboard box," so pretty much any job exceeds my peers' expectations. At some point in the ensuing conversation I feel the need to say that my place of work is actually at a bank inside of a grocery store, and the balance of their perception of me is restored. They feel much more comfortable with my job being real at that point.
Working inside of a grocery store for a bank can be very trying at times. Most often, wearing my sweater vest and tie, I am approached not for financial consultation, but for people to ask where they can find the tortilla chips or baked beans. "I don't know, buddy. I work for a bank and handle thousands of dollars for thousands of clients. Sike, aisle 7."

Another unique and frustrating part of grocery store banking is that we must go out into the aisles and seek our fortunes (that is, other people's fortunes). This can lead to very entertaining conversations if people don't look at your nametag, realize you work for a bank, and then treat you like you have mono. Some people actually hurry away at a brisk trot after approached, and I would like nothing more than to run after them yelling "Sir, I JUST WANT TO HELP YOU ACHIEVE YOUR FINANCIAL GOALS!" Unfortunately I am a professional so I must saunter away and try not to look miffed and/or sheepish.

One gentleman actually did allow me to strike up a conversation with him a couple of weeks ago. He was a tough-looking fully-bearded old gentleman clad in supple-looking leather. I approached him in the pet aisle, where he was gazing at the cat food that was on sale for 49 cents a can. What follows is the gist of our conversation: 

     Me: "How's it going today, do you have a cat?"
     Bro: "Hey, going well. Actually a biker friend of mine was telling me how he eats cat food instead of tuna, so I thought I'd give it a look."
     Me (chuckling softly with him while trying not to look scarred-for-life): "Oh. I'd imagine that it has a lot of protein and other vitamins in it."
     Bro: "Yeah he swears by the stuff and says it can really be used for a lot of dishes. It's got a wide-range of uses, apparently."
     Me: "I get that. Plus it's on sale, so you can't really go wrong, right."
..............Awkward silence ensues. I contemplate saying goodbye and swiftly walking away.......
     Bro: "I'm just messing with you, man, I have a cat."

Visibly relieved I laughed with him and started asking him about his finances. He was of the mindset that one should not keep any money in banks, but instead in some insane 50,000 degree-proof lockbox in ones home. He also proposed that that is safer and better yielding than an account insured by the federal government. I'm pretty sure he was buying that cat food to eat it in a log cabin in West Virginia curled up in a blanked made of sewn-together raccoon pelts, but he was interesting to talk to.

There are a lot of odd people in this world, but maybe it's just about doing the best you can with what you've got. If you have to wear a sweater vest for your job that happens to be inside a grocery store, at least you are exceeding cardboard box expectations. When life gives you tuna, sell that tuna on ebay and eat cat food.
~Worley

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