Wells Fargo, a long story about not much.

Wells Fargo Forest Grove

IAman reports:

There is a nice branch of Wells Fargo bank 2 miles from me. Looks like it was built in 1990s, maybe 3,000 sq feet. 3 tellers, about 10 empty cubicles. A drive through and a good functioning ATM. So far, sort of good.

A couple weeks ago I went in to secure a safety deposit box for some treasures and documents, box 31.  ‘Mel’(Melissa) slight disheveled frizzy haired 20 something waited on me. The process took quite a while, 30 minutes.  I asked about having my kids have access to the box, Mel didn’t know but would forward a request for info to the main office. I forget about this promise.

The next day, I get a call from the branch manager, I asked about my request through Mel about my kids access to the box. She replied Mel left WF the day after, but she would contact the main office to find out about box access for kids. She then quizzed me about the level of service Mel provided, I said all was  fine. Strange.

A week later I go to deposit health directives into the box. I ask for the manager who is on lunch break, relay my inquiry about kids access, then go to deposit papers. My antennae now being up, I verify the contents of the box as I place papers within.

I leave as the manager is still lunching. “She will get right back with you”.  Still crickets.

But what really grinds-my-goat is the entire bank staff was wearing beyond-casual clothes, hoodies and sweats and hair in bungees. I was raised in a era of bankers in pinstripes.

Googling all this, the advise is don’t use bank safety deposit boxes, they are a relic of a bygone era. Not only boxes but me too. Who knew?