The second lunch shift returned slightly buoyed by alcohol and began the afternoon's work. Bu, who flushed as soon as she drank, was pink. Everyone brushed their teeth ferociously, worried about the smell. The unexpected soju, hot soup, and huge amount of cold water had upset my stomach. I threw it all up.
I brushed three times and gargled twice. Afraid a customer might ask whether I was working drunk, I sprayed half a bottle of deodorizer on my clothes. Worried I actually was drunk, I checked everything three times before processing it, pressing Confirm, stamping a form, or reading an ID. FXcking hell. I hadn't been someone who cursed like this, however strange the customer. When my work slowed, Hong bellowed like an angry bull, demanding why I wasn't calling another number.
Thankfully, I made no mistakes. Correcting an error on the bank's system took more than twice as long and required a supervisor's approval. Worst of all, to fix it, everyone in the branch had to know. Criticism like, You've got working eyes, so why did you make a mistake? was routine. Getting it right the first time mattered.
I'd thought Bu looked precarious after the drinking. Sure enough, trouble came. She entered an extra zero, confused one million with ten million, sent the wrong amount, and generated a reversal slip. Normally, you canceled the incorrect transfer on the system, obtained a supervisor's approval, then processed the correct transfer. Once everything was done, you explained the intermediate error to the customer, apologized, and confirmed that it had been corrected. That was the process.
Every step had to be done as quickly as possible. The recipient might spend the incorrect amount, and all kinds of complications could arise with that account.
But Hong refused to approve the reversal and dragged things out. Is this acceptable? Can't you do your job properly? Don't you know numbers? Can't those eyes read them? Then why do you have them? What makes you better than that gold-headed android? I could hear every reprimand. A mistake could warrant a scolding. But she wouldn't promptly authorize the reversal that would fix it.
Every supervisor watched Bu's frantic helplessness with amusement. They enjoyed the rookie's predicament as though she'd conveniently provided entertainment during a dull moment. I couldn't understand it. Something Hwapyeong would have approved in two seconds became more than ten minutes of hauling her over and demanding why she'd done it and whether she was sane. At Hwapyeong, Kim Ji-won would say, Officer Eun! Check twice next time! Understood! Not once! Twice! Then immediately approve the reversal.
An error needed quick correction. From Hong's remarks, the customer had wanted to send 1,000,000 won in cash, but Bu had entered 10,000,000 and left it in the recipient's account. Bu was desperate, afraid the recipient would spend it. Hong smiled and said that if she hadn't made the mistake, there'd be no reversal slip to approve. Meanwhile, the customer who'd entrusted us with the transaction sat abandoned.
Bu could only repeat that she'd been wrong, had processed it incorrectly, was sorry, and would never do it again, begging for the reversal.
The surrounding managers acted as though it had nothing to do with them, remarking that new recruits these days did things even little brats wouldn't. ......Give me a break. Entering one wrong digit was among the most common banking mistakes. You must have done it as rookies too. Enjoy tormenting someone?
After more than twenty minutes of waiting, the customer seated at Bu's desk loudly asked when the transaction would be finished. Hong came over, swept an expressionless glance over the customer's face, smirked, and approved the reversal. Bu flew back, quickly transferred the million won, handed over the receipt, and confessed her error.
“What? You processed it wrong? You mean the bank sent more money than I even gave you? Is that allowed?”
Customers were always busy. A transfer took less than three seconds. If an error, reversal, new transfer, and explanation took thirty minutes, of course they would be angry. Besides, the recipient's passbook would show ten million coming in, being reversed out, then one million coming in. Reversal didn't leave a pristine record showing only the intended million. That button existed solely to correct staff errors. It was a screen nobody normally needed to know about.
Bu explained that she'd canceled the incorrect transfer and sent the right amount. The customer asked whether that meant the reason they'd been abandoned for thirty minutes without explanation was the bank fixing its own mistake. Were customers just supposed to sit there ignorant? What had they done wrong? Why should they have to explain to the recipient why ten million had come in and then vanished?
Every word was justified. Bu's mistake had cost some time, but the biggest problems were the supervisors who stalled the correction to enjoy her reaction, and Kim forcing alcohol on staff at lunch. The customer was an innocent victim caught in the mess. A branch had at least ten or twenty employees. They couldn't all get along. But in front of customers, you at least pretended to be friendly and functional so work could run smoothly. This place lacked even that minimum of pretense and courtesy. They behaved openly like scum, insulting and bullying one another without hesitation.
They'd used a customer as a tool to torment Bu. Whether the higher-ups liked her or not, they should have approved the reversal quickly for the customer's sake. Why waste thirty minutes of someone's life for their own entertainment? Now Bu trembled before the customer too, rubbing her hands together as she desperately begged for forgiveness. I'm sorry. It was my fault. I could hear Hwang humming from here. The supervisors here are rotten to the core. Fuck.
In a case like this, we might apologize with a promotional gift, but we didn't even have anything decent. The customer seemed to have left, because Bu called her next number. While serving my own customer, I sent her a message.
[Today's been rough, hasn't it? Don't dwell on it. Let it go. Every banker makes that sort of mistake. It really is nothing.]
The very existence of a reversal slip was embarrassing. You wondered how you could make such a stupid mistake, and having it officially recorded wounded your pride. Many bankers boasted of twenty years without generating one. It meant their work had been that accurate.
Half of Taecheon worked drunk. How could they have no reversal slips? They were surely making countless mistakes and slips, then quietly smoothing them over. I cursed Kim and Hong inwardly. Kim was probably cursing me too for the tiniest resistance to him at lunch. ......Every day is a struggle.
After four, I could finally breathe. Bu quietly called me over, saying she had something to show me. Every piece of paper a customer handled was scanned and retained as an image, so it had to be sent to the document center within a day or two. These days, most documents were electronic and customers signed on tablets, so we sent less paper to the BPR center than before. Reversal slips, though, always had to be printed. Other banks apparently handled everything electronically, reversals included. Our system required every reversal to be printed again, stamped, and submitted for approval. They used to be electronic too, but after so many problems, documents considered important had been switched back to paper with all the necessary seals.
Paper sent to the document center couldn't have stickers or sticky notes attached. If a note covered a customer's signature or seal, it would be scanned that way. Everything had to come off. Normally, the employee who used a document tidied it up, then whoever packaged it checked once more. In the past, packing documents had been a job in itself, with daily dispatches. Now we sent them together on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Bu showed me something she'd found while removing a sticky flag from Kim Jin-ju's slips. A reversal slip. Dated yesterday, approved by Hong. It concerned 550,000 and 5,550,000 won. Kim had probably hit the five key once too often.
15:07:55
I hadn't even known she'd generated a reversal at that time. So they could deal with it without anyone noticing, but for Bu, they delayed thirty minutes and mocked her for the entire branch to hear. Bu's hands shook. Her eyes seemed to spark. Kim had stamped the slip and handwritten the reason: incorrect transfer. As a reversal slip, it bore Hong's and the deputy's seals too. Lowering my voice as much as possible, I turned the papers as though explaining some procedure.
“That's too much. You and Kim joined only three weeks apart. Why treat you so differently?”
“I'd like to know too. I'm going to ask Manager Hong what makes us so different.”
“......Uh. If you say that, do you think she'll be any more considerate toward you at work?”
“If I don't say something, I don't think I can stand the unfairness.”
I hadn't been working long either. I didn't know what to do. This was new to me too. I went to Bae for advice. She was the only person at Taecheon I could ask for proper guidance. On hearing about Kim's reversal slip, she answered in a voice as quiet as wind.
“I won't stop you. But I wouldn't do it. I know she's treating you differently. Do you think saying so will change her?”
“I don't think she'll change either. But I feel like we should at least say once that she's treating officers too differently.”
“Mm. I wouldn't say anything. People don't change. She'll only make the person who speaks up look foolish.”
Bu and I asked Hong whether we could talk briefly. In the small meeting room, she looked annoyed and demanded why we'd called her there. Bu brought up Kim's reversal slip and asked why they were treated so differently. Hong listened expressionlessly with folded arms, then glared at me.
“Have you two teamed up? You called me in here to gang up on me?”
“We're all officers. We're asking why you treat us differently.”
“What business is it of yours how I treat anyone?”
“Sorry? I'm an officer too. If I request a reversal, will you wait thirty minutes to approve mine?”
“I'll do yours quickly. Leave. I'll talk to Officer Bu. This has nothing to do with you.”
“What?”
“This concerns Officer Bu. I'll talk to her. You, out.”
I looked at Bu, but both of them simply looked back at me. Wondering whether I was in the way, I found myself leaving. They seemed to be talking, but I couldn't hear from outside. I was busy finishing the closing work I'd postponed for this. I checked all Bu's passbooks, cards, and controlled stationery for her. Watching the others, I checked her cash too and closed her teller account from her unlocked PC. I texted customers whose loans or deposits were nearing maturity. When we were told the cash closing was done and everyone except Hong was putting cash boxes into the vault, neither had emerged. They finally came out thirty minutes later. Hong looked pleased. Bu did not.
“How did it go?”
Rubbing her eyes, Bu sniffled and didn't answer. She only returned to her desk looking miserable.