Need help at the bank? Call an angel

“Why don’t we have an ID?”

“For the same reason why we don’t have any cards anymore”, I reply. “I either lost them or were stolen.”

“We need an ID to be able to give you your new cards and the new pin numbers. This is the procedure”, the beautiful brunette in her early thirties tells me from across her desk, where I’m sitting in the bank close to where I live.

“Well, as I’ve already told your colleagues in the call center when I asked them to reissue my cards and your colleague at the front desk when she gave me the envelopes with the cards and sent me to you to get the pin numbers, I only have my passport. My ID, driving licence and cards went missing together with my wallet.”

“Oh, let me check”, she says and spends a few more minutes typing and clicking, while I’m sighing and eyeing those envelopes with my cards on her desk.

Suddenly, just as I’m wondering if he’s still working here, the branch manager steps into the office, as if by miracle. He sees me and stops for a second, startling softly and trying quickly to recompose himself and cover it up. You remember him, don’t you? I wrote here about our first encounter.

“Good afternoon”, he says, allowing just a tiny bit of red to color his cheeks.

“Good afternoon”, I reply smiling and searching for his eyes. I regret my no makeup, bad hair day and conjunctivitis, but I know this is my only chance, so I don’t back down. I see him surrounded by a bright light, like some sort of angel or saint coming to save me. No, really. This is the way my sore eyes see the world. Overexposed. My small, red and sore eyes find his and at this point I know I’m gonna get what I want.

“Oh, good. You’re here”, the brunette says from across her desk. “We need you.”

I’m just smiling and keep looking at him.

“She only has her passport and according to the procedure, in order to be able to give her the new cards, we need…”

“Another photo document with proof of address”, he completes her sentence and walks around me, planting himself in front of me, next to his colleague.

“Yes, but I only have my passport, that’s all.” I reply.

He quickly glances at the computer screen and then back at me smiling.

“Can you bring a birth certificate?”

“Sure I can, only it has no photo or proof of address.” I reply giggling as I keep looking into his eyes.

“I checked everything”, his colleague adds hopelessly, while I keep smiling and looking at him with my small, red eyes.

“Give them to her.” he says shortly. “Please come back when you have your new ID so we can make a copy, ok?” he tells me.

“Of course. Thank you so much!” I reply feeling relieved and he leaves the office.

Just as I’m getting out of the bank with my new cards, he’s coming in again, holding shopping bags from the nearby supermarket and we smile to each other again before he disappears into his office.

 

PS Read about my eye issue and the missing wallet in First week of the new year in Sweden. An identity loss/ change adventure.

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