When I first moved to Cincinnati I transferred within the bank I was working at. I split my time between two banking centers and was a regular old teller with a connection to the area manager.
Before I was a teller I worked in teller corrections and fixed/researched teller errors. So as a teller it was difficult for me to not try to be helpful when I saw other tellers making mistakes (which I would also inevitably make).
But because of my connection to the area manager they decided I was a tattle tale.
During the summer 4 people were fired. I had nothing to do with it, I promise. I didn't "tell" I didn't even know this stuff was happening. But the other tellers decided it was so.
The one banking center decided to call a meeting after the manager was fired for nefarious activity and the team leader was on vacation, so there was no one in charge. Just the other tellers the private bankers and me in a meeting in a dark banking center after close.
One by one they lined up and took turns telling me what was wrong with me. They told me I was ugly, fat, stupid, mean. They wondered why I thought I was so much better than them, they asked me why I was such a f**king b**ch and thought I could play with peoples lives.
I protested. I tried to tell them that it wasn't me, that I didn't know what the manager was doing and I certainly didn't turn her in. I tried to tell them I was just trying to make it through the summer. But they wouldn't relent, they wouldn't stop telling me why I was so awful.
I tried to gather my purse and leave, but they circled around me and just kept taunting me.
Finally I relented. I told them I agreed that I was terrible and didn't deserve to live. I told them I would quit and never come back.
But I didn't cry. Because crying is weak and I was terrified to show them they were affecting me.
They let me out. I called the area manager on my way home and told her I didn't want to go back to that banking center for the rest of the summer, which thankfully was only about another 2 weeks. She asked me why, I told her it was the commute. She agreed.
The other morning I was driving to work and I got behind a car that the banking center manager drove. The whole time I just kept wondering, if she really took all that money why was she driving a car like that? I thought about her driving this car that wasn't that nice and I thought about all those tellers in that dark banking center.
Only this time, I didn't believe them completely.