Ten Years of Service

"Oh this came early, here you go" She casually gave me an envelope as I was walking from the lobby to the restroom. I asked "what is it?" She answered that it was my tenth year anniversary recognition with the company. I hesitated for a second, I didn't know what to say or how to react. I guess the recognition (or the lack of) made me go back to August of 2007 when I was on my second assignment managing a Santa Monica store right after the Pacific Palisades store. My previous manager called me up during our monthly managers meeting and I had no idea what it was for. She announced my 5th year milestone anniversary by saying "Here's a manager I mentored and watched grow into his  current role with so much success, he's shown leadership since he was a teller and a personal banker, I'm so proud to have worked with you Tony and to still have you on my team". She gave me a cornerstone with my name engraved on it, hugged me, and whispered in my ear while the rest of the managers were clapping for me, "I wanna give you another one in 5 more years". Damn that felt special!

"What!" her voice brought me back to the envelop as she saw me speechless. I didn't respond. I continued my walk into the restroom while I was opening the envelop. It contained a tiny little pin with the number 10 on it and a letter telling me that I gained enough points with the company to get a free juicer or cufflinks with the company's logo engraved on. 

I went back to my desk and called the next customer to help them with my service. Ten years of service were summed up in a pin and a free juicer. But that part didn't really matter to me. It was the way my current manager approached that important achievement in my professional career that took away all the excitement. 

One day not too long ago, our consumer market executive said to us in a meeting "People do not leave because of the companies they work for, nor they leave because of their pay, they rather leave because of their managers". I cannot debate that. I know she was right. But I have gone through many managers in my life, and I didn't let any of them be the reason for me to quit my job or transfer to another branch. I watched them leave instead, and this one is no exception. It's a matter of time before she moves on to her next promotion in her journey of realizing "the American dream". How do I know? It's through a story called "Stop the madness".

In 2008 the same consumer market executive who told us that employees leave because of their managers, wrote on a big board (that looked like a wagon wheel) the words "Stop the madness" and rotated them so fast. She turned around and looked us in the eye (in our hypnotized eyes) for a few seconds to allow us to draw our own conclusions first. She always said she had no problem with silence, no matter how uncomfortable it could be. Some of us had crazy theories and some of us were clueless of what madness we needed to stop. She then told us that we were the highest paid managers in the company, and that we should stop asking for raises. I never doubted that we were well compensated. However I always knew that it was too little of a pay compared to what we had to put up with from the never-ending tasks, to the "ten-hour plus" day long at work, to the constant change of rules and policies, to even the backstabbing and being ganged up on at every opportunity. The atmosphere was never safe. I never cared for those meetings though I admit, the boss was one of the smartest people I have ever worked for, and that was my consolation in being away from the store I used to manage. I always wanted to go back to my branch and take care of my customers and my employees. It was the place where I didn't have to put up with the corporate politics, the politically correct cliches, and the fake smiles. I did what I always do best; genuinely extending my service in the best way I possible can. But the "Stop the madness" phrase hit a string that was on a totally different level.

When I said she too will leave, I know that she will, because like her, I too was caught up in that vicious cycle. It's only a matter of time before she feels overwhelmed or exhausted or jaded. And if she doesn't for the time being, she will continue climbing the ladder of the corporate world till her service is no longer needed or cannot be afforded. She'll then get a package. It's the same ladder I descended in 2009 and stopped my own madness to replace it with starting my own business. Today, I cannot agree more on the decision I made three years ago to stop my own madness. After all I am the "Just a personal banker" most employees in my branch refer to when customers keep on asking if I were the branch manager. And being "Just a personal banker" equals getting "Just a pin" along with the casual "Oh this came early, here you go, which in my opinion translates into "Please accept this token (pin) of our appreciation for completing ten years of service with our company. We value your obedience, now make sure that pin doesn't leave a hole in your shirt, because that would look tacky   ...... ".

Bad doctor Bad doctor!!!

"I tutor Arabic language, Doctor" I answer his question about my profession. He says couple of sentences in Arabic and I'm impressed for a second. 

"Let me check your knees and elbows" he says "Okay, no sensitive touch points, how do you sleep?" I say I sleep on my back and I put couple of pillows under my knees. He concludes that it's the mattress. I say to him "Doctor, I assure you, it's not the mattress. in the last three months I went overseas, I slept at my friends' place, and unless I take the medicine, the tingling and numbness in my limbs don't allow me to fall asleep regardless of the mattress". 

"How old are you?" to which I answer "38". "See?" he responds with a face expression that I don't know what to make out of. "See what?" I ask. He says "Well, you haven't been 38 before, right?" He sees my "surprised" face expression and he yells at himself "Bad doctor, bad doctor" while he's slapping one hand with the other. He tells me a story about an 80 year-old woman and how he told her "Sweetheart, you haven't been 80 before, so you know, your body does or does not do certain things at this age". 

I am shocked, I guess he's trying to be funny. I try to force a smile while I say "I'm 38, not 80 and even if I were 80, I would still like to either fall asleep when I go to bed or at least know exactly what's wrong".

"Do you have a significant other or someone you sleep with? I mean someone who sleeps next to you?" 

"Excuse me? I don't see the relevance here"

"Oh, I'm just saying, how annoying that would be for them too, since you have to move your legs and arms to get rid of the tingling". I don't comment. He winks at me and says "It pays off to be single sometimes." I want to take his hand and slap his face instead of his other hand and tell him "You're a Bad doctor who makes assumptions". But I keep my thoughts to myself instead.

- I will ask you to change the position of the way you sleep, and also do an MRI to your neck and STDs.

- STDs! why? 

- Oh, I just don't want to leave anything out

- Ummm, okay, but STDs! seriously?

- Hehe, I was once having a conversation with an old lady (Oh great, here comes the old lady again) and I asked her to do some STD tests, to which she answered (and he is now imitating her voice, I'll let you imagine that) But doctor, my husband has been dead for 15 years and I have always been faithful to him, I never had any sexual activity after him. Well sweetheart, I hate to tell you, it's not you whom I'm concerned about her sexual activities, it's your deceased husband whom I'm questioning his faithfulness to you. 

My jaw drops and hits the floor. I mean telling a widow after 15 years that her husband could have been cheating on her, is just wrong. He sees the expression on my face and slaps his hand with the other again saying "Bad doctor, bad doctor". I am beyond uncomfortable now, I'm looking for a way out of this room. I say 'My STD results from 3 months ago are in the computer, if you'd like to check them out, please be my guest, but I'm not doing them again."

"Oh, okay then, no worries. Could I have your card to call you for some Arabic lessons". 

"I don't have any on me."

"Okay, next time bring one."

"There won't be next time ..... And I don't teach doctors"

Bad doctor, indeed. 

The Corporate World

The Corporate World

Twenty years earlier

When I was a child, the concept of twenty years seemed to me like a lifetime

In my mid 20s, twenty years earlier took me back to an innocent happy childhood

In my mid 30s, twenty years earlier took me back to a small world, full of dreamy future possibilities

In my mid 40s, twenty years earlier took me back to a beautiful youth, energy, and hunger for knowledge

In my mid 50s, twenty years earlier took me back to self realization and a few but major life changes

In my mid 60s, twenty years earlier took me back to stability, strength, determination and prime

In my mid 70s, twenty years earlier took me back to years of better knowledge, wisdom and peace of mind

In my mid 80s, twenty years earlier took me back to years of celebration, satisfaction and content

In my mid 90s, the concept of twenty years seemed to me like a moment

And if there's one thing I could have done differently, I would have lived every decade celebrating what it brought into my life instead of yearning to 20 years earlier.

Did Jesus really write that?

I have been preaching and scolding and alerting and warning and the list goes on when it comes to banking. We live in the Fraud capital "with a capital F" of the world, LA that is. Identity theft is an all-time high and stolen bank information has become an expectation on a daily basis. If a day goes by without a client coming to our branches to file a claim on their missing money, stolen card or lost checks, then that day must have been a day off for the fraud operators (Yes, they take breaks too, sometimes they get more than they bargain for, so they reward themselves with a day off or two. They are humans too you know, so they say).

But our clients have not exactly been innocent. That's why I started the blog with the word preaching. I used to think that to most people, bank information should be confidential and guarded at all times. But I found out that people don't look at it that way, even after it's compromised. "Don't share your account numbers with anyone, don't give your PIN to people, don't enter your debit card number on an unknown website to purchase God knows what you are embarrassed to purchase in person, don't lend your credit card to your friend for a day or two, and for heaven's sake, don't forget your wallet at the cash register every time). 

I guess working for a bank for so long made me panic and overprotective when it comes to banking. By far, I have witnessed more than enough drama and headache caused by mostly carelessness (the honest truth). I find every morning at least 3 debit cards left in our ATMs overnight (Here's how it goes: Once they get their money, they get so excited and snatch it leaving their debit cards behind, exposed to the person standing behind them in line to either call them to tell them that they had forgotten their card in the machine or to simply clean up their accounts. Thank God we programmed our machines to swallow the card when 30 seconds go by with no activity from the customer, who at that point is speeding to the nearest bar to get a drink or two, and don't you love it when they look for their debit card and not find it so they innocently shrug their shoulders and use their credit card instead to give to the bartender for an open tap to keep adding their and their friends drinks and not have to bother paying for individual drinks separately? And of course they forget the credit card too at the bar. Then they come to us for rescue and say …. "Me!!!! I'm not good with money, I like to spend it, that's all I know". And I like to smack you on your face right now, that's all I know. Well, I have to empathize with their situation, it's a policy.

The most classical line is "I thought I had money in my account, I don't understand why it's overdrawn" and what makes you think you have money in your account? well, I'm swiping my card and making purchases, and it's working every time. I see, well then you're absolutely right, it's the debit card fault in that case.

But the tables turned after 9 years of employment at the bank. Yes they did and I'm guilty this time. One of my main clients wrote me a check and I lost it. She's been my client for 8 years now and last week I, for the very first time, lost her check. Now I'm not gonna bore you with how I lost the check but I did figure out that I must have dropped it while getting out of my car to go to my apartment. I panicked. Oh I panicked big time. I went back to the car, looked under the seats, looked in the street, back to my apartment, looked inside all the grocery bags (that were already in the trash) looked on my dining table where I put all the paperwork and mail, and my pride just refused to admit that I, Mr. Preacher about banking and neglect, have lost a check.

I wrote my client an email since it was too late to call (and since I was so ashamed of myself) telling her that I lost her check. But the one thought in my mind was "I exposed her bank account number". If you live in LA, you would understand the golden opportunity a lost check fallen in the hands of the wrong people creates. Got the name, the address, the signature, the handwriting style and the sequence number of the checkbook. Oh boy, how can I apologize enough. I called next morning and asked if she got my email just to make sure she's acting on it. 

Next session to teach her daughter was yesterday, she told me that she needed to talk with me on my way out. I knew it was my time to get scolded, preached, alerted and warned that this should never happen again, ever. That I'm being trusted and that I made a mistake. I finished the lesson and went to her. she handed me an envelop and asked me to read what was inside it.

My heart dropped as I was opening the envelop. I thought she was going to show me a bunch of fake checks cashed from her account or an overdrawn bank statement. I opened the letter and she said to me that it was a letter from Jesus C. I read the letter and it said the following "Dear Mr and Mrs. DeFalco, I found this check on a curb in Santa Monica and I didn't find your phone number printed on it to contact you and tell you that your check is lost. I don't know if you or the payee lost the check but I wanted to mail it back to you hoping that you didn't change your address in the meantime. I'm sorry the check is so dirty but it looks like many people walked on it not realizing that it was a check with $ 225.00. I decided to immediately send it back to you. My name is Jesus C and if you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact me, here's my phone number."

Yup, the dirty check was stapled to the bottom of the letter. It was there safe and sound and that Jesus C restored my and my client's faith in humanity. What a relief … yes, there are good people out there and I was so lucky that the check I lost fell in the hands of one of them, coincidently his name was Hessoos C (Jesus, and the C was not a short for Christ)

My spontaneous friend

My friend you need a break, you're not just physically at stake, stress is not good for your delicate 

intellectuality 

And if I truly get on your nerves, have you heard of those organic herbs? Try them, they might sooth your 

anxiety

I'm sorry about your common sense, but I say in your defense, it didn't go well with your uninhibited 

creativity

You were born an artist, your talents are countless, so what's a flaw or two like a lack of compassion or 

sensitivity?

Of course I know you meant well, when you wrote me "go to hell." Your message was eloquent, elegant, classy, and dignified in 
dignity

You accused me of being on time, said that discipline is my crime, that I have structure and dare to show 

responsibility

According to you these qualities are bad, make me robotic. So terribly sad! to have structure and lack what you excel at; 
spontaneity

So you don't like my routine. Although you don't want to sound mean. You still claim that all my themes lack what you mastered;

variety

Yes I know what you meant, with the "Thank you" intro you sent, acknowledging my prolonged patience and 

hospitality

But just like milk that gone bad, lacking the freshness it once had, you overstayed your welcome - 3 days and nights, past its

validity

Ironically you claimed to be proud. Well that pride of yours is missing sound. So you chose convenience, you priced with 

humility

Yet you celebrate yourself, you said you and everyone else, who knows you well but me. When did it become sane to celebrate insanity?

When you know who you really are, quote "Cute, smart, fun and popular," then why the constant search to validate your 

identity?

Yes you have tons of friends, but please stop and don't pretend, that you know the term 

"Quantity VS Quality"

Give me some credit will you? What do you mean I can't handle you? It's my choice not to succumb to your 

irrationality

My friend you're spontaneous, spontaneity comes out of your anus, with the fragrance of Aster flavored with your 

modesty

And if stability were a vice, and coming through for you did not suffice, then I accept my imperfection and embrace my 
disability

So let me throw you a farewell, A spur-of-the-moment wish to wish you well. Off you go  now. Don't leave a trail of your spontaneous personality

Cheers

Chicago's Easter

Easter's morning is an adventure

The kids are looking for a hidden treasure

The eggs seem to be their only pleasure

It's fun and for their parents it's leisure

No kid leaves with no reward to keep

They run and jump, they move and leap

And as they're searching and digging deep

Chicago wakes up from its winter's sleep

The parks are back to life as normal

The celebration of spring is formal

But the music suddenly turns soulful

For one kid is left behind feeling awful

His heart is broken, his wings are clipped

From life and joy, his face is stripped

When I heard his cry and read his script

I believe it was a beat my heart just skipped

For him the city's memory is always winter

With wind that's not just cold but bitter

And though the river seems calm and glitter

Chicago's Easter becomes a hitter

Easter has nothing to do with going more East

It's a resurrection of life and love deceased

It's overcoming death, according to the priest

It's supposed to heal and give hope at least

I have never been to Chicago but through your eyes

I saw myself in the river getting baptized

I held your hand by the lake in the cold nights

but now I’m the kid who's left with no ties

Easter's morning is an adventure

The kids are happy, there is no pressure

Chicago smiles, a smile I treasure

I think of you, I wish we stayed together

But somethings are just not meant to be

Chicago's Easter is just a memory