PLEASE Open Up...

I spent the entire summer looking for a job, and finally received a call from a major bank for a full-time, floating teller position. Of course, I accepted the offer and was given information on when and where to show up for training. I was expecting your typical on-the-job training, but no; this financial institution had its own training center that I was scheduled to attend for three weeks. Let me tell you about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, that made them send me straight to a local branch after my first three days at the training center.

The training was scheduled from 8:00 a.m. until 4:30 p.m. each day, Monday - Friday for three consecutive weeks. There were about 16 people in our class. There were eight tables arranged in this order: a middle aisle with four tables on each side. Behind each table were four chairs, and very minimal walking space. So if you were the first person to the table, your seat would be next to the wall, and the 4th person to the table would be sitting next to the aisle. The 1st person would have to stand up and squeeze past the other three chairs in order to reach the middle aisle if they had to leave the room for any reason. Because there were only 16 of us, we only used the tables that were to the right.

The first day was a breeze. We introduced ourselves and met our trainer, who had assigned our seats with name tags before we arrived, and gave us a tour of the building. My name tag had been placed at the very end of the 2nd table, next to the wall. So there was one table in front of me, and two tables behind me.

When we got back to the room after the tour, she had us do a roll call (out loud), row by row beginning with the first person at the first table. She told us it would help her get familiar with our names. She explained that she was so horrible when it came to remembering names, that we would do this every single morning when we arrived, as well as any time we came back to the classroom from any breaks that we would take. Then she allowed us to leave early.

Day two was a little hard, as we had to sit and listen to her go through the employee handbook, labor laws, and rules and regulations. There’s only one way for me to describe it: have you ever been so sleepy at work that all you could do was fantasize about your bed, and how good the sleep was going to be once you got to your bed? That’s how it was. It was so hard to stay awake that she actually extended our break times. However, we made it all the way through to 3:30 before she allowed us to leave early. I distinctively remember her saying, “there’s no use in trying to talk to a group of sleepy people because you guys can’t concentrate on what I’m saying anyway; so it’s a complete waste of time for all of us. We’ll try again tomorrow.” As we exited the room she added, “make sure you are wide awake tomorrow. Drink energy drinks, coffee, or whatever you need to keep yourself awake, okay?” I don’t know about the rest of the group, but as soon as I got in my car and started it, I got my second wind. Nevertheless, I was still happy to be leaving.

The next morning, I was sure to grab a cup of coffee (something I had not usually done) in an effort to be alert the entire day. Before the first roll call, our trainer joked and made fun of us about our facial expressions while trying to fight sleep the day before. We all laughed as some even went into a detailed story of their experience. After swapping stories, our trainer decided to do roll call a little differently. Instead of us calling out our own names she wanted us to put away our name tags and let her see if she could guess who we were. So we put them away and sat quietly (and at times laughed) as she struggled through most of our names. Afterward, we were introduced to a few of our subordinates and of course, we had to listen to stories about how each one got to where they were in the company and all of that good stuff. By the time they all finished, we had missed our first break and it was almost time for lunch. Our instructor let us go to lunch and gave us a specific time to be back in the classroom. That day, we all left and went to the cafeteria as a group, and ate together because our time was limited.

When we returned to the room, our teacher had not yet arrived. We mingled and continued on conversations that had initially begun during lunch. About 15 minutes later, our mentor showed up and explained why she had been late. Apparently, she had been tied up on the phone with her supervisor, trying to get the training extended for an additional three weeks, and was awaiting their decision; informing us that if she received a call she would have to step out of the class. Then she instructed us to do the regular roll call. This is where I messed up. This is the part that I’ve wished for so long, that I could just go back and put my hand over my own mouth. You know how some things in life you just don’t get to “do-over”? Like high school: you do those four years and whatever you do in that time period, (good, bad, or indifferent) is etched in your history forever, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well, that’s how this is; inscribed on the inside of my heart, my mind, my life until death do us part.

As previously stated, the regular roll call was out loud and began with the first person in the first seat. Because I was at the second table and in the fourth seat, I was the eighth person to say my name. When I did, the mentor stopped me and started repeating my name while snapping her finger each time she said it. She was trying to remember something. I know this because she said, “I remember your name coming up in conversation over lunch. I have a message for you! There’s someone that you have to call but I cannot remember who it is…” She went on and on saying my name, snapping that finger, and scratching her head trying her best to remember. She was almost to the point of singing it: “Shanita, Shanita, who do you gotta talk to? Shanita, Shanita, there’s someone who wants to talk to you…”

This woman struggled so badly to remember who had left this message that it had become annoying. It got to the point that other class members were calling out names of various departments, trying to help her out; and no one found it funny. So me, always trying to add a little humor to almost every situation, thought I’d break up the “seriousness” of it all by adding my two cents. Boy oh boy was I wrong. I did not think this through at all. Before I explain what I did here is my disclaimer: I think I am a funny person. My youngest daughter once told me, “Mom, you are not as funny as you think. You just play too much.” She could be right. However, I am just one of those people who loves to laugh, and I also love to find humor in almost everything. I am a firm believer that whoever coined the phrase “laughter is the best medicine” was so on point.

So this lady was putting herself through hell and irritating the heck out of everyone else in the room, trying to remember who called for me. So what did I do? I extended my hands out in front of me squeezing the tips of my fingers together (don’t ask why; I did not think this through). With the most high-pitched, annoying, Mickiest Mousest of voices that I could muster up; my facial expression very similar to the woman in the photo below, I sang out, “COME ON! WHO DO I GOTTA TALK TO?”

Immediately, all sound in the room ceased. You could hear a cotton ball hit the floor at that moment. The trainer gave me the hardest of stares, and her facial expression declared that she was completely disgusted with me. All four people at the table in front of me turned around and looked directly at my face. I turned sideways in my chair facing the three people at my table, and they were gawking as well. The people at the two tables behind me were doing the same. I held my breath, and inside my head where only I could hear me, I begged the earth ‘PLEASE open up and swallow me now’.

They all stared at me, like without blinking, for at least a full 30 seconds and no one said a word. I contemplated getting up and walking out, but my legs would not allow it because my brain must have informed them that there was way too much embarrassment present for me to get up and have them watch me leave the room. At that moment, I had so many wishes running through my mind: I wished I was a turtle so I could’ve pulled my head inside until it was time to go. I wished I could’ve teleported out of there. I wished I could’ve hit rewind and just shut up; but most of all, I wished I could have made them laugh. Nobody laughed, not one single person; everybody stared.

Wanting to breathe again before I passed out and not knowing what else to do, I turned and faced the front again, and looked at the teacher. After about 10 seconds she finally broke her stare and rolled her eyes at me, and said, “don’t come here tomorrow, I’m gonna have you finish your training at a branch. I’ll have someone call you with the information so you’ll know where to go.” As soon as she spoke, everyone at my table and the front table turned towards her. I didn’t dare ask any questions because I was too embarrassed to call any more attention to myself; something I wish I had thought of beforehand.

The next day, I reported to a local branch and began hands-on training there. No one, including myself, mentioned the incident that got me expelled from training class, and I have never forgotten about it. However, I did learn a few things from it: one thing being that no matter how bad or embarrassing a situation is at the time it happens, it always gets greater later. We just have to be patient enough to wait for later.