Poetry month in United States, Karin says. She also promises to write a poem every day in April. This sounds a good idea. I would like to do likewise. The poem does not have to be a long one. Someone suggests a haiku at the end of each day. Here is mine.
I stood at the bank
in a patient line of clients
for nearly an hour.
Why do we all put up with this appalling service? The tellers are wonderfully efficient and helpful, but there are just not enough of them. When this happened before, I complained, only to be told that they like to encourage customers to use ATMs. They did admit that not all business could be done by a machine, but didn't seem much concerned about clients being inconvenienced. This branch is spanking new, hugely spacious and beautifully appointed. There are only three counters for tellers, but there is a long row of underutilised automatic banking machines. The rent charged for the offices must be enormous and the cost of the installations must have been very large too. It is as I have always suspected: in the banking industry money and possessions are important and people, whether they are staff or customers don't matter at all.
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