My Freeway

One of my many jobs at the bank branch was to solve problems. This one problem arrived on my desk as the following:

A customer had given his girlfriend his ATM card. She went to our machine. She withdrew $40 from the checking account.

However, then she asked the machine how much was available for withdrawal? It said, $260. ($300 minus the $40 already taken out.) So she took the money out of his account.

Problem. The entire system was down so the ATM was using a back up system, and didn’t have access to the fact that his account was only flush with $120. So we were short $140. In the forward thinking bank policy, the branch that handed out the cash needed to collect it from the deadbeat. “But the ATM did this not us??????” was met with a lack of understanding by the accounting department.

We had to call the customer in and discuss the matter with him. He came in a sat at my desk. I explained to him the problem. I needed $140 to make up for the money that was withdrawn from his account.

How did I know that his girlfriend took the money? I showed him the tape from the back of the ATM---right after she withdrew $40, her next request was how much money could she withdraw?

Maybe someone else came along and took the money after she left? No, the machine still had your card and didn’t spit it back out until after it dispensed the ‘extra’ money.

Finally, he agreed he owed the money, well sort of. His next request was to ask me “How I wanted to be paid?” “What do you mean?”, I asked. “Well, I don’t believe in the paper money we use in America. It’s unconstitutional, can I pay you back in gold? I don’t pay any income taxes because the Federal Government can’t collect money from the citizens---it says so in the Constitution.”

What did I do to get face to face with Mr. I-Don’t-Believe-In-Paper-Money? So I thought as quickly as I could, then I said, “I just want paid back in the same manner your girlfriend used. Good old paper money.”

After a brief banter back and forth, he agreed to pay the money back with dollars, rather than gold nuggets.

Then he said something that I pounced on. He mentioned that he was driving into Anchorage. My branch was in Eagle River, about 12 miles north of Anchorage but only accessible by the Glenn Highway. It cut right through the Air Force base and the Army fort, but eventually connected the two towns.

So I asked him, “How are you getting into Anchorage?”

“I’m taking the Highway into downtown.”

“Why?”

“That’s how you get to Anchorage from here?” he countered.

“Yes, but you are using the road I paid taxes to build. I didn’t get a warm fuzzy paying the money to help build the road, so why do you think it’s your right to use it? You didn’t pay any taxes, remember?”

“But that’s the only road”

“Now, that’s not MY problem is it? You can walk along side the road, but if you are driving on the road, you are driving on MY road?”
He got up and left the branch shortly thereafter. I don’t think we were paid back the money his girlfriend ‘borrowed’ but I don’t think I was going to get it anyway.