What I Won't Do For $100
I have worked a rather wide varietyof jobs in my years on this planet. Some out of convenience (they workedaround my class schedule), some out of necessity (unemployment benefitsonly go so far, after all) and some because I like being paid in cash(just kidding IRS!).
At the first magazine I workedfor, after beginning yet another story with, “When I was working atx …,” one of my co-workers finally said, “How many jobs haveyou had, Laurel?”
Here’s the pre-college list:I started babysitting at 10 for a little girl who lived across the streetand built up quite a client list by the time I left for college. I tookmy first $5.00/hour, I-have-to-pay-taxes job at a small produce marketthe summer I was 16. The next summer, I worked at a card store wherethey forgot I was an employee due to some sort of management changeafter I went on a 10-day school-sponsored summer program. (I was ridiculouslyrelieved because that place was way too tense for a vendor of PreciousMoments figurines and soothing nature sounds CDs.) My senior year ofhigh school, I worked behind the front desk of a gym, so I would havemoney for a trip to Italy that Spring Break, and that summer I taughtat a daycare.
In the 12 years since that gymjob, I have also been a restaurant hostess, waited tables, worked foran NFL hockey team, done fundraising for a continuing care retirementcommunity, been a paralegal at the Department of Justice, worked asa bank teller, been a substitute teacher and written wine labels. (That’swithout getting into the magazine and PR work that is supposedly partof my elusive “career track.”)
Of all the training and orientationsI have gone through, it was the one for my work as a bank teller thatwas by far the most interesting – and, most likely, exasperatingfor them.
Despite how the ledger for mychecking account may look (or looked, when it existed), I’m actuallypretty good with numbers. And the OCD part of me has no problem countingmoney three times so that I rarely came up short by more than a dimeor so in my drawer.
(Side note: The one time I didlose a lot of money, I accidentally gave the president of the bank $1,000more than I should have. On the bright side, I quickly realized themoney was with the president of the bank and called his secretary toget it back. On the not-so-bright-side, I screwed up in front of thepresident of the freaking bank. Not exactly a career-builder.)
When one is training to be a bankteller, after chats about the cash-in and cash-out forms, legal holidaysand proper forms of identification for dispensing cash, there is theinevitable chat about what to do in case of a bank robbery.
Now, I will not give away thesecrets of the banking world here, but regardless to say, as a teller,you are asked to perform certain fail safes and warnings so that anywould-be bank robber gets away with as little money as possible. Youare also supposed to keep any robber away from all safes and vaults.
As most people are aware, I’msomething of a scaredy cat. I’m also someone who has watched far toomany procedural dramas on TV – the CSI franchise, Law & Order,The First 48 … So, as the leader of our training is discussing earlywarnings and fail safes in the “unlikely event” of a bank robbery,I raised my hand.
“What if you don’t reallyfeel comfortable doing any of that?” I said, imaging a burly, angryman with a gun in my face saying that he knows about the panic buttonand the dye pack.
“Well,” she said, “we wouldnever ask you to do anything that puts your life in danger, but we dostrongly encourage you to use whatever means you have available to youto stop or minimize the loss of a potential robbery.”
“I see,” I said. Then I waiteda minute and raised my hand again, “I kind of think I should tellyou right now that if a guy with a gun wants my, or really, your money,I’m going to give it to him.” (I left out the part about probablydrawing him a map to the largest vault in the place if that would keephim and his weapons away from me.)
“Well, we do offer a very niceincentive program for any teller that thwarts a robbery attempt.”Then she smiled at the rest of the room in what I suppose was an encouragingway.
“And what would that be?”I said.
“We issue $100 checks for thosetellers who minimize financial losses during robbery attempts.” Shekept smiling, but I was still imagining guns in my face and those terrible,terrible ski masks.
“I think I’m going to haveto stick with what I said earlier.” Our trainer gave me one more longglance and then quickly moved on.
And I’m guessing that I musthave scored pretty highly on my initial teller test because they stilllet me work for the bank after that.
But, in all seriousness, and Idon’t know about most people, but I tend to value my life and evenmy general personal safety/general appearance (no black eyes, twistedarms, etc.) at far more than $100. You could even make that check for$1,000 or $10,000, and I’m still giving away codes and access to secretdrawers like the drunk at a family reunion. (And shock of shocks, theCIA has never come calling on me.)
I’m a cautious gal who has neverhad a love or risk and considers the lack of indoor plumbing almosttoo much adventure. I watch TV shows and think the cops with the dreaded“desk jobs” are the lucky ones. I’m not your go-to girlfor stopping a bank robbery – incentive check or not.
A Krispy Kreme shoplifting caper-- especially if it looks like the chocolate-covered, crème-filledsupply will be depleted? Maybe. But a bank robbery? You’re going tohave to call someone else; I’ll be the one booking it for the door.And you’re more than welcome to charge me $100 for that.