The Man Who Cut the Line Lost the Whole Deal

I was in line at the bank on a busy Friday, the kind of line that wraps back on itself and moves once every geological age. A man came in behind all of us, took one look at the queue, and decided it did not apply to him.

He pushed to the front, papers in hand, announcing loudly that he had an important appointment to finalize a large business account and did not have time to wait with, and he actually said this, "regular people." On his way past he snapped at a mild-looking older gentleman near the front to "keep up or move," bumping his shoulder.

The teller told him he would have to wait his turn like everyone else, or take a seat until his appointment contact came out. He scoffed and demanded the manager. The teller made a call. A door opened at the back.

Out came the mild-looking older gentleman he had shoved on the way in. He had not been a customer in line at all. He had been waiting to greet someone. He was the branch manager, and, as it turned out, the exact person the loud man had come to sign the large account with.

The manager smiled, extended his hand, and said, "I believe we had an appointment. I am afraid I have just reconsidered whether our bank is the right fit for your business." The loud man went from red to white. He apologized. The manager said, pleasantly, that he was welcome to try another branch, in another city, and returned to his office.

The line, which had watched all of it, did something banks rarely hear. We applauded. The older gentleman gave a small bow before he closed his door.