Online banking has taken the need to visit the physical bank almost completely out of my routine. However, when I need to hit the safe-deposit box, I’m there.
I had not visited my bank in a few months when I entered and was greeted with two new features. One was plexiglass spanning the teller windows from the counter to the ceiling.
The second was the brand-spanking new monitors that book-end the teller counter.
The screen on the left, showing you the left side of...you.
The screen on the right. Showing you...well...you get it.
The screens are showing a constant feed of the security cameras. It very much has that feeling like a market that hangs a screen right over the front door, showing you walking in, with a little sign that says, “We are watching you! We prosecute shoplifters and hooligans to the fullest extent of the law! Think thumbscrews!”
As if the plexiglass and half-dozen cameras behind the teller counter don’t convey the “don’t even think about it” message enough, you get to stand in line and watch yourself, or others, wait.
Just to the left of the teller window is a table with the wares of a local business. The table is provided to the bank patronage as an opportunity to promote the small businesses around the area. Sometimes you’ll see a diorama of pictures, like you find at someone’s high school graduation party, promoting the local insurance agents who have 157 years of experience between the husband and wife team and their dog. (I’m not sure if the dog is an agent, but they have the dog wrapped in one of those little doggie neckties.) Sometimes it’s some goofy little wood contraption with sawdust sprinkled around it, promoting the local handyman (who apparently doesn’t own a broom). During my recent visit, the table was covered with fruit baskets.
Next to the table is this sign:
It says, in brilliant non-trained handwriting: FREE BUSINESS ADVERTISING. Ask How Your Business Can Be Next!!!
Call me crazy, but I would think there would be a better application of the screens that are aimed right at you while you’re in line, totally captive, and waiting for a teller, instead of proving the obvious, which is that the cameras are so good that I can see the blot of food stuck in my teeth.
And if you ever ask where fruit baskets come from. Now you know: South Minneapolis.
