Temporarily out of service
Banking machines are one of the better conveniences of the last quarter-century. In fact, they rank right up there with the microwave oven, if you want to rank things by time saved per operation. Usually. Back BC (before children), banks had tellers and lines and no interbranch capability for those of us in the pay envelope class. Cash ruled, and if you ran out you were poor folk, or someone with a chequebook and lots of trusting acquaintences. Now we stand before the altar, make hand signals and wait for a set of almost identical banknotes to deslot.
I do my best banking between buses, often before sunrise. Jump down, sprint to a known location, wait for my turn and then sprint back for another bus (timed commerce). Once in a while I fall in behind an “expletive deleted” that has to print out every transaction onto those funny little sheets of paper, or that comes with a serious case of “not prepared”, but on average I can get through my cash grab in under two minutes.
Until recently. The local maintenance firm with firearms and a panel truck has adopted a schedule that mirrors mine. I jump down from the bus, arrive at a location with the glass door already bolted, and then I try to guess how many more minutes until my chosen ATM is relieved for duty. This morning, I literally raced the panel truck to get there before the guards, and they simply walked past me and locked things down. No respect for the waiting, no customer first policy; they’re on a mission to replenish the machine and all others shall halt. It’s so wrong! What happened to the idea of maintaining when the customers AREN’T onsite?
I don’t wish to return to the “good old days” with velvet ropes and no place to lean, but ATM maintenance should be done at another time. I shouldn’t know that there are people in panel trucks with small fortunes in unmarked bills.
