Would you like an Advice Slip?

Barclay’s Bank never fails to make me think- going to an ATM is no longer just a casual trip , it’s an experience. I like to think of the clean-cut executive marketers sitting around an oak table saying, “how will we differentiate ourselves from every other bank in London? How? I mean, with UBS claiming the serious security face, and Lloyds using the scary looking clay animation/cartoon route to connect to customers[JM1] , our options just seem so, limited.” And then one man stands up and says, “I know- we’ll make a ‘unique’ banking culture. One where we use a different language to say the same freakin’ [JM2] thing. It will make the people feel special[JM3] ! ATMs or cash machines will now be ‘Hole in the Walls’ and a receipt will be an ‘advice slip’. Yes, that’s it!” At which point I’m sure champagne was poured and magical confetti fell from the board room ceiling.[JM4]

So how do I know about this unique culture? Well, every time I go to a Barclay’s machine inevitably there is one out of three with a screen displaying , “our Hole in the Wall is out of service” with a cartoon robot that looks like the soulless avatar of evil. Additionally, I always want a receipt to monitor how quickly the £age [JM5] is disappearing. 'Where is the Cash with receipt button? Maybe this machine doesn’t give receipts.' I think. Then later on a screen of its own- “would you like an Advice Slip?” 'um, advice slip? Sure.' A normal receipt slips out of the machine. No advice, just the ever plummeting sum of money in my account. I get it, advice = You’re broke. Stop withdrawing.

Part II: The Day James Broke the Hole

(Don’t ask me how it is possible to babble this much about a bank- I know what you’re thinking. ‘She hasn’t posted in months and this is what she gives her readers? This!!’)

James was glowing, beaming in fact. It was 6:03, he got off work a little early, got to read a bit of his book, and then I actually showed up on time for dinner and begged him to have Pizza Hut. Life was good. Now just for some quick cash at the cash machine and he would be moments away from supreme bliss. “hmm hmm hmm” James hums [JM6] as he puts his card into the Barclay’s machine. He hits the buttons as he thinks, “lets give the balance a little glance and then its off to pizza.” He clicks the “balance on screen” option and the bank checks his details. James still content thinks briefly about the Alan Greenspan autobiography he is reading- ‘I wonder if he has read the Black Swan’ [JM7] he thinks. The balance is up, ‘looks miserable, looks like I’m going to cry’. “Would you like to make another transaction”, ‘yes, yes I would’ James thinks and presses the button. “Error: System shutting down”… ‘crap’[JM8] .

After a few moments the screen flashes back to its DOS programming, flashing numbers upon numbers on the screen. James waits, mouth curled into a vicious snarl at the flashing numbers; ‘please, please, please GOD NO!!!’ he thinks. The screen goes blank. In a moment of panic he starts testing all the buttons. At first he casually gives a little tap on the “return card” button, and then within the next minute he is systematically hitting all buttons at once. There is a flash of light on the screen and a slight sound, crunch, crunch. It’s gone.decides to wait a little longer. Sure enough the Tin-Man makes his entrance, “Sorry for the inconvenience, but our Whole In the Wall is out-of-service”. “I think it just ate your card” I say. “No, that was something else” James says. More crunching ensues- it’s over.

The hold music invigorated him more. I glance over to see James still at the hole in the wall, pressing the occasional one or two on his mobile. A few minutes pass, “Yes, the Barclay’s Cash Machine near Leicester Square just ate my card”. … “no, the machine near Leicester square ate my card”…”well that information is on my card, which I don’t have now”… “yes, it was swallowed”. The street around bustles with people and noise, thus making it very apparent to the woman that he is indeed still standing at the Barclay’s downtown. James relays some random facts, dates, medical records, and spells his name at least twice. A police car goes by, sirens blaring. The woman on the other end begins to laugh. James hangs up and says, “the new card will be here in 3 days”.

Sure it will…but don’t get me started on Lloyds and snail mail. :-)

James has reviewed and edited this with his own comments:

[JM1]What on Earth is this referencing?

[JM2]No clean cut Barclay's banker would ever use such language

[JM3]See comment two

[JM4]I'm not sure about this.

[JM5]Nice use of £age

[JM6]Factually innacurate

[JM7]He has

[JM8]Crap is much too weak of a word. I am no Barclays banker.

Cutlery

About my 3rd week here I went out to dinner with a local who informed me I had the cutlery skills of a toddler. He pointed that I not only held my fork incorrectly but I leaned my head to the fork with each bite. And try as I might, and with all the practice I have had over the last 6 months, today I’m going to sadly and officially concur: I have the cutlery skills of a toddler and should not be seen eating in public. The scariest thing about this concept is not necessarily the mockery I am making of myself and others (such as you) while eating. The frightening reality is what other things have spawned from my poor utensil handling- what if I speak with a lisp and don’t know it? Or tie the twisty tie on the bread loaf too loosely causing it to mold earlier? Or worse, talk to my computer when writing emails? Oh, wait….

I find it is somewhat similar to my awkwardness with international greetings. Mind thinks: Okay, supervisor Paul from the Netherlands is about to leave London. What do I do? What should I do? Well…Paul is from the Netherlands, I think they do the kiss on the cheek there, right? Or should I opt for a handshake because the kiss may be too personal? Wait, I’m female that could be taken as overly aggressive? Why can’t I just wave? Uh-oh, there goes Paul standing up from the desk…
Paul: Well Becky, it was nice meeting you..send me those stats.
Becky: (stands-up but does not walk towards Paul) yea, will do. It was good seeing you
Paul: (continues to stand…waiting)
Becky: (continues to stand and thinks…which option…which)
Paul: (leaves with bag)
Becky: (still stands and does nothing for a few seconds)

So what caused me to have this amazing revelation of agreement you may ask? Well it was about the time when the chicken was ½ in my mouth and the other half fell off the fork and into my lap. At least 3 of my colleagues saw it. (Damn..why does this happen to me?!) Ever since said friend brought to my attention the visual monstrosity that is my eating, I have yet to eat out without thinking about it…which is like telling yourself not to blink, except messier. At some point in my life I learned to eat “American” style- pick up knife with the right, cut, switch hands and eat with fork in right, repeat. At some unspecified point though I became incredibly lazy…I mean why switch at all if the food is easy enough to cut side-fork style? So I mastered the side cut quickly. My side-cut muscles are now finally tuned to pivot the fork in one swift swoop. If side-cutting was an Olympic competition, I would have a clean sweep of gold in all events from ice-cream to steak.
Here in the UK side-cutting might just be the equivalent of watching a 1st degree murder or even worse, someone about to scrape their finely finished nails the full width of a chalk board. In an effort to remedy my childesque skills I have been working on my British style of eating and can now boast almost a full meal without one side cut. But then you get to the more complex foods like green peas or today’s saucy chicken which brings in the whole new category of knife cultivating. Not to mention their incredible skills with “back forking” British people literally can stack up almost any amount of small food morsels on the end of their fork within seconds using their knife to round-up the pieces, much like a rodeo spectacle. They then can use the same knife to swoop sauces, potatoes you name it on the back of the fork..hints what I call “back forking”. I have progressed in this area..but then comes the tricky part. How they consistently get all of that in their mouth before it falls off the fork is beyond me. (insert moving head towards fork to optimize time and reduce risk) As anyone can testify who has eaten with me at any point over the last 6 months, I don’t think I have made it through a meal yet without the circus spectacular that is gravity driven food headed for my lap, napkin, chin, etc.

To those who eat with me…I apologize.
I also pre-apologize for my new outfits when dining out which will consist of tailored rubbish bags and my own personal spork.