Hello, My Name Is Chad

“You know why they call me Grizzly?”

“Why?” Amir said, startled, looking up from his meal tray at the big man’s wild brown hair and shaggy beard.

“Because of my voice! Don’t I sound like a grizzly bear to you? Grrr!” The man did speak with a kind of raspy growl that made you want to clear your throat and lock your door.

Patting his rotund tummy, the man continued, “But really I’m just a big ol’ teddy bear!” He waddled around a bit, Pooh style. Amir couldn’t help himself. He grinned.

“Ah, it’s nice to see a smile on your face. What can I call you?”

“My name, I guess? I’m Amir.”

Grizzly stuck out his big paw, which Amir shook gingerly. “Nice to meet you, Amir.” He studied the teen. “I think I’ll call you Chad.”

“Uh … Chad? You think I look like a Chad?”

“No, but you sound like one!” He chuckled, and even his laugh was scruffy. “Can I sit here?”

Amir shrugged, uncertain what would happen if he said no. Grizzly set down his coffee cup and straddled the folding chair opposite Amir at the long table, one of a row set up in the dingy community center. He drummed his fingers on the table’s worn plastic top.

“You look young to be at a soup kitchen. What’s your story?”

Get out! Amir’s father roared.

Amir set down his sandwich, hand shaking. “I didn’t come here to make friends. I just want to eat my dinner.” He steadied his voice. “So just leave me alone. Please.”

Nonplussed, Grizzly nodded. “That’s right, Chad. You got to be on your guard with strangers. Especially here.” He leaned in. “To be honest, some of these folks are pretty desperate.”

“But –“ Amir gathered his thoughts. “Then why should I talk to you?”

“Oh, I’m a volunteer here.” The man pointed to the name badge pinned to his flannel shirt, printed in bold letters: GRIZZLY. “The real reason I introduced myself is that I work for a bank."

Amir raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, the look on your face! You should see yourself!" Grizzly gave a throaty hoot as he leaned over the table to punch Amir playfully in the shoulder. "He thinks I couldn't possibly work for a bank if I'm not wearing a suit." The more he laughed, the more sheepish Amir felt.

Suddenly Grizzly cleared his throat and became all business. "Now, then. The bank has an internship program for young adults. Doesn’t pay much but it’s a good start up the ladder. I’m always on the prowl for folks who are down on their luck and just need a little boost.”

"Well ..." Amir tried not to look skeptical and failed.

“Tell you what, Chad. Here’s my card with the address for my office. If you’re interested, show up tomorrow at nine for training. Deal?” Amir said nothing, but he took the card.

“You don't even have to wear a suit!” Grizzly rasped. He grabbed his cup and ambled back to the coffee dispenser by the kitchen door, calling loudly, “Lovely to see you, Naomi. Hey, Steve! How’s your leg?”

* * *

Grizzly greeted Amir enthusiastically when he arrived a little before nine. Amir had almost turned around when he saw that the address Grizzly had given him was a hotel. But Grizzly met him in the parking lot, threw his arm over his shoulder and escorted him in. The big man was dressed in a grey suit that would blend in on Wall Street.

“Excellent, Chad!” he crowed. “You got here in time for the free breakfast. Their eggs are a bit undercooked but you can’t go wrong with the waffles.” Amir allowed himself to be steered into the hotel’s breakfast area and soon filled his plate. Grizzly just had coffee.

As Amir plowed through his waffles, Grizzly explained that as a traveling regional consultant for a chain of banks, he typically worked out of a hotel room if the bank didn’t have extra office space available. He was a regular here. “The desk is comfy, you can watch TV on your break, and the WiFi is actually better than at the branch!”

Breakfast over, Grizzly got up and gestured for Amir to follow. Amir held back uneasily.

“Aw, kid, you’re smart to be cautious. Here, let me introduce you.” Grizzly strode over to the hotel’s front desk and slapped the counter until the clerk appeared. “Gus, let me introduce you. This is Chad. He’s my new intern. Gus, tell Chad what I do.”

From behind the counter Gus smiled at Amir reassuringly. “Grizzly’s a bank consultant. He’s one of our favorite customers.”

“I’m a great tipper,” Grizzly said to Amir in a fake whisper. Then, louder, “Isn’t that right, Gus?” He slapped his hand on the counter again, leaving a bill behind as he headed for the elevators with Amir.

“Welcome to my office!” Grizzly announced as he unlocked room 316 and opened the door with a flourish. Amir took in the room. The curtains were shut, the air smelled musty, and the bed did not look slept in. He sat tensely at the desk, on which lay one sheet of paper.

“So, it’s pretty simple,” Grizzly said, tapping the sheet. ”Here’s the script.” Then he reached into a briefcase—the only personal item visible in the room—and took out a stack of forms. “Here’s the call list. All you have to do is follow the script and record the info on each form. Easy peasy.”

Amir started looking over the script, but Grizzly plunked another sheet on top. “Not until you fill out your paperwork, mister. Contact info here.” Amir wrote his name and birthdate, then froze when he reached the line for “Address.”

Grizzly noticed. “You know, some interns prefer to use the hotel address, for privacy reasons.” His scratchy voice was almost gentle. Amir copied the address from Grizzly’s card.

“Now, confidentiality nondisclosure agreement here—“ He pointed, and Amir signed.

“Standard liability waiver here—“ Amir signed again.

“Great! Now all I need is to take a picture of your driver’s license and birth certificate.”

Amir fished out his driver’s license. “I can’t get to my birth certificate.”

Grizzly nodded understandingly. “Gotcha. Well, just fill in your social security number and that’ll be enough.”

Amir’s pen wavered as his father’s voice came unbidden to his mind: Never give out your social security number to anyone you don’t completely trust.

I thought I could trust you, Amir answered his father silently, and wrote down the digits.

Grizzly swept up the form, filed it in his briefcase, and snapped the lock. Then he handed Amir an outdated-looking cell phone and clapped him on the back. “Congrats, intern! Here’s the official company phone. Don’t let me catch you using a personal phone while you’re working. You know, security reasons.”

Amir nodded.

“Yee haw, let’s get started!” Grizzly looked almost giddy. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Amir discovered that he actually felt eager about something for the first time in a week.

“First step,” Grizzly said, “is a practice call.” He pointed to the first call sheet. “You can fake dial me.”

Amir pretended to dial the number. Grizzly made a tweedling noise and pretended to answer a phone. “Hello, who is this?” Grizzly said in an unsteady falsetto. It sounded like such a bad imitation of Yoda that Amir nearly cracked up.

Grizzly put his hand over his imaginary phone and said in an aside, “Most of our customers happen to be women.” He gestured for Amir to continue.

“Hello, my name is Amir, and —“

“I’m gonna stop you right there. What does it say on the first line of the script?”

Amir was taken aback. “Well, it says, ‘Hello, my name is Chad.’ But I figured that was just an example.”

“No, no, no!” The man was practically shouting. “While you are working for me your name is Chad!” Amir’s eyes widened and he shrunk back in his chair.

Grizzly sighed. Then he spoke more calmly. “One thing you learn in my business is that people are dumb. They get an idea in their heads and it sticks there like a bug on fly paper. People hear my voice on the line, they worry I’m about to set their house on fire. You start the conversation with ‘Hey, I’m Amir,’ and that nice lady on the other end will hang up on you because she thinks you’re a terrorist. I’m sorry, kid, that’s just the way it is.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Amir murmured.

Why did you have to name me Amir, Dad? Why couldn’t you call me something normal?

Amir is a noble name, son. It means you are a prince.

I hate my name.

“So, you ready to try again?”

Amir fake dialed. Grizzly twiddled. “Hello?”

“Hello … my name is Chad.”

Grizzly gave him a big thumbs up.

Amir collected himself and focused on the script. “'Hope you are doing well today, Ma’am. I’m calling from First National Bank. You’ve been a loyal customer for many years, and so we are providing this free security service as a courtesy. First, may I confirm your name and address? I have you down as —'” He nearly giggled again. “'Grizzelda Brown, 123 Honey Tree Lane, is that correct?'”

“Yes, that’s me,” warbled Grizzly.

“'I have here that your account number is 123456-789. Is that correct?'”

“Well, I don’t know. That sounds about right.”

“'Thank you for confirming. Mrs. Brown, I have some bad news for you. We have learned that the bank has been hacked. Your account may have been compromised.'”

“Oh, dear!” Grizzly’s falsetto became a squeak.

“'We take security very seriously at First National Bank, and we are following a plan to ensure that your account stays safe.'”

Amir looked up from the script. “Wait, is this true? Have the accounts been hacked?”

“Would the script say it if it wasn’t true?”

Amir hesitated, reluctant to sound confrontational. “But then, wouldn’t the bank need to call in some security experts or the police or something?”

“Who says they haven’t done that?” Grizzly paused, as if coming to a decision. “Okay, wise guy, I guess I’d better fill you in.”

He lowered his voice confidentially, so that Amir had to lean in to hear him. “The real reason I’m here working offsite, hiring a total outsider, is because the experts think this was an inside job. That’s why we’re using these paper forms. Whoever did this has access to the bank’s computer system. We have to do an end run around standard procedure before these poor dumb customers get their accounts cleaned out.”

Amir pondered. “I guess that makes sense.”

“So—are you with me?”

Amir bent over the call script again. “'We are going to ensure your account stays safe. First, I’m going to walk you through the steps to reset your password.'”

In his normal voice, Grizzly said, “You might need to explain that this is a special security password reset and can’t be done the usual way online.”

“Got it.” Then, reading: “'What is your current online account password?'”

“I don’t remember,” Grizzly piped. He grinned. “I like to play hard to get. The script covers this.”

“Umm … 'It’s vital to reset your account immediately before the hackers can do more damage. Lots of people write down their password or keep it in a computer file. Can you look it up? I’ll wait.'”

Grizzly hummed the Jeapordy theme song. Then: “Okay, I found it. My password is Snookums123.”

This time Amir didn’t stop himself from laughing. “'Can you spell that for me please?'”

“Capital S – n – o – o – k – u – m – s – 1 – 2 – 3.” As an aside: “Make sure they tell you what letters are capitalized. That’s important.”

“'Thank you for that information,'” Amir continued. “'Now, please provide a different password. It must be at least eight characters and include a mix of letters and numbers. Make it something difficult for a hacker to guess.'”

“Hmm, let’s see. How about abcd1234?”

“Seriously?” Amir blurted.

“Honest to goodness, that was someone’s password,” Grizzly replied. “Remember, people are dumb.” They both laughed.

Amir continued through the steps of verifying the new password, generating a new security question, and collecting maiden name and birthdate. Finally he neared the end of the script. He found his nerves suddenly prickling.

“'Mrs. Brown, we know getting hacked can be a scary experience, and we've appreciated your cooperation. I do need one last verification in order to complete the process of protecting your account. Can I please have your social security number?'”

“’Oh, my, I don’t like to give that out over the phone!”

“'I understand. You are smart to be cautious,'” Amir read. It was getting hard to keep his voice steady. “'Unfortunately, not everyone is who they claim to be. We need to confirm that your number matches our records to verify the identity of the account holder and finalize your protection.'”

“Well, that makes sense. My number is 123-45-6789.”

“'Yes, that matches our records.'” Amir stopped reading and looked at Grizzly. “There’s no number on the call sheet to verify.”

“Well, of course not! Think about it. I’m not printing out people's social security numbers where anyone can get a good look at them. You just write down what they say, and I verify it later.”

Amir looked down at the last line of the script. His stomach was hurting. “'You’ve been very helpful. First National hopes to keep you as a valued customer. Take care, and have a good day.'”

“Thank you, Chad. What a nice young man. Goodbye,” Grizzly warbled, and slammed his pretend phone down on the desk. Amir jumped. “Yee HAW! I knew you’d be a natural. Thank you, Chad!”

“My name is Amir,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m just thirsty.”

“The finest bottled water for you, my man! You take a breather while I pop out to the vending machine, and then we’ll get to work on your first call.” He stood up, stretched prodigiously, and exited the room.

Amir quickly pulled out his own phone, took a deep breath and texted as quickly as he could. Do you still hate me? if not can you come get me? He typed in the hotel address and room number. Then he waited.

The room was silent. Amir cradled his phone.

There was a chirp. I’m coming, my prince.

Another chirp. I never hated you.

The door lock clicked. Amir barely had time to put his phone on silent and stuff it back in his pocket.

Grizzly handed him a bottle of water, and set another bottle on the desk. “You might need that later,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Ready to get started? Those accounts are waiting!”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Amir forced a smile.

“Good, good!” Grizzly growled. “The first one is always the hardest, but it will get easier. I’ll be right here if you need me.” He put his hand on Amir's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, before dropping into the chair beside the desk.

Amir picked up the official company phone and slowly entered the number from the first call sheet.

“Hello?” came a thin, wavery woman’s voice over the line.

Glancing at the door, Amir sighed. “Hello, my name is Chad …”