Another story of the systemic abuse and sales pressure, specifically on credit card sales.

It also outlines again how this company’s human resources department is trained to turn any complaints from associates back onto them, with threats of being written up and termination.

Subject: It is good to know I am not alone

Message:
”Where do I even start. So many emotions, nightmares, tears.

I worked at this Fortune 500 bank for just under 20 years. I enjoyed the retail level of banking, taking care of my neighbors, sharing my financial expertise. I went thru several promotions, including to management, but ended up back in sales because of the supposed better pay.

Looking back, I do not understand why I stayed so long. I would not even enjoy my vacation time because my goals were still high even if out. I was being called in on my days off. I was always “on call”. You did not get days off, but “half days off”.

The first few years were wonderful. Yes, sales goals even as a teller, but I used to get stock options, my manager had parties with a wonderful buffet at her house. We had our names on the wall for recognition. We used to work from Monday to Friday.

Then, we started opening on Saturdays; then, we stayed late on weekdays to make sales calls (officially, “service calls” to have clients come in). And on and on.

For so many years, when payroll and time sheets were very casual, I used to stay late unpaid just because I loved my team and my clients. I never added my name to any lawsuit years later because I loved the company. I was thankful.

But everything changed. Banking centers started to be considered sales stores. A bunch of managers were brought from Best Buy, Home Depot and the like, instead of promoting long time employees.

Everything went downhill. This one sales manager (when sales bankers started having regional sales managers, not the branch manager) is the whole reason many of us left.

One Friday, I had to leave at 5 (we closed at 6) because of a medical emergency. Next day, I found out a manager who worked for the company for almost 30 years was “let go” thirty minutes after I left that afternoon. This manager had lost a spouse to a deadly decease a couple of months before and was close to retirement.

The Sales Manager would come and sit behind us, listen to client interactions, close the door after the customer left and raise hell with a million of “missed opportunities”. Years after leaving the company, I still have cold sweats when a car like this sales manager owned drives by me. The Sales manager would show up unannounced and I knew my happy day was over.

Almost 20 years and literally no mistakes on my record, the sales manager would bully me (us), email me, come in unannounced, write me up for those interactions for not selling a credit card to some poor widow who just came to pull a death certificate from her safe deposit box.

Do you know who I was? I was “Mr. Bank of America”. That’s what I got called by a client in a supermarket’s checkout line. One client approached me at church to thank me in from of my family for saving his home with a new mortgage, $600 lower a month.

I called HR to denounce the constant insane pressure, bullying, harassment. They could not believe it. But a week later, as magic, I got a call from them with a very different tone almost blaming me for everything I called for. Me, “Mr. Bank of America”.

I went on vacation and I got “insider” information that the sales manager had called HR to see if I could be fired. Sales manager could not. “Why?” sales manager was asked. “Just look at his record”, HR said.
One day I walked in, typed a letter, gave two weeks’ notice, and left. Someone who dedicated almost two decades to this company, leaving like that using the backdoor. No recognition, nothing.

I went through so many position name changes, different offices: that’s why I have used a very neutral vocabulary, but I remember every name by year, my NBK, my person number, the National Helpline number.

I could write a book, maybe I will as therapy. I left a few years ago and I still feel anxiety, sadness, anger for the way everything ended. Since then, going from temp job to temp job with long periods of unemployment. Mr. Bank of America does not even remember who he is anymore thanks to this culture of destruction.

I am thankful to the Company. I still have some accounts. Unfortunately, I crossed the wrong people and the wrong culture period.

When you have chills looking at a car like the one your nightmare supervisor drove, you know that was hell. I can't even get myself to use my real name and email. But this was all my true experience. “

(Identity withheld for protection.)