Lancelot
Full time employment: Posting here.
Well, I consider myself to be of average intelligence, but sometime even I wonder about my I.Q. considering some of my massive screw-ups…
In less than one week, I managed to: lock my Siam Bank ATM card by entering the Pin code incorrectly four consecutive times; lose my Siam Bank savings passbook AND lock my Siam Bank online account when attempting to change my cell phone number.
Three strikes and you’re out farang!
After skulking around for a few days, I finally decided to take it like a man, so I duly notified Siam Bank via e-mail of my errors. Siam advised me to go to my neighborhood police station and file a lost passbook report.
I immediately dressed for success (combed my hair and put on some shoes) and walked down to the soi store where some motorcycle taxi guys hang out, waiting for customers. The proprietor raised her eyebrows meaning “You want moto- cye taxi. I gave the one motion Thai nod meaning “yes.” She barked out “Somchai, wake up! A cash customer is waiting!” Somchai sleepily stumbles out of his hammock, starts the bike and we are off to the subway station. Maybe last night Somchai hit the Thai whiskey a bit more than usual because I have a knowing fear that he will fall asleep at the handle bars, but some how he successfully transports me to the station.
I pay him the customary 20 baht and he falls asleep before he can pocket the fare.
I transfer to the Sky Train (elevated railway) at Mochit station, then detrain and walk to the police station.
I immediately make a great impression with the cops.
They have a ticket machine to assign the order of persons served, but for some reason I can not get my ticket. I am sweating profusely from the walk and pressing the buttons like mad, but nothing. A cop takes pity on me, walks over and with a theatrical press of his index finger presses a button and a ticket prints and pops out. I smile my ’aww shucks smile” and he responds with his “yet another farang” expression, then I am intercepted by Wan, a lithe and easy on the eyes 20 something police woman.
I explain that I lost my Siam savings passbook. I think Wan (Wan means Sweet) is a detective in training, because she peppers me with specific questions: “Oh, you lost your passbook? How? Where? When?” My Thai is being tested to the limit and Wan is growing increasingly suspicious. She changes dialects and consults with Pee Daeng (Elder brother Red.) I understand about 60% of the conversation, basically she says “Pee Daeng, this farang claims to have lost his passbook, but his story seems a bit strange to me. Maybe his documents are forged? They say farangs buy fake Ids at Khao San Road (backpacker ghetto) and I want to be sure before I give him the report.
Daeng, a hard looking man that exudes a suffer no fools demeanor replies “Wan, is this your first day on the job? Didn’t you notice the way the farang fumbled with the ticket machine? It is obvious that he is not clever enough to steal anything, let alone buy forged documents. But then maybe you’re right. Why don’t you phone Police Colonel Tang and tell him you just cracked the case of the farang gang stealing bankbooks; solved the heinous crime before it even happened. I think Pee Tang will transfer you back to Isan (The north-east, the poorest region of Thailand) and you will be writing up stolen chicken reports until you retire. Besides, look at him, the way he is perspiring, he could suffer a heart attack and die at any moment. Just what we need, some unhappy farang ghost wandering around our station.
Wan completes filling in the form in 30 seconds flat, adds a series of officious stamps and practically drags me out of the station. Heck, I did pretty good in there, now I’m off to the bank.
In Thailand, I can use my ATM at any bank’s machine, but for replacement ATM cards and bank books, I must go back to the branch where I originally opened my account. No problem, they know me by name there because I manage to lock myself out of my account about one time per year.
This time I successfully master the customer ticket machine, young bank hostess fetches me and advances me ahead of other people and deposits me at the desk of a senior branch official.
Good to see you again Khun Lance, what did you break, er misplace this time? We’ve meet before and Khun Nid nods sympathetically as my tale of woe unfolds. I present the police report, my passport and driver’s licensse and Nid efficiently begins the laborious process to issue me a new bank book and ATM card. (ATM pins are not reset here; enter the pin incorrectly and you advance to your local branch for interrogation)
It is interesting to see Khun Nid in action; her desk is about three feet form the copy machine, but she summons “Nong” (younger person, a.k.a. the young hostess) to make copies and gather other necessary forms and documents. Rank does have it’s privileges here. Khun Nid and I repeat our scripted conversation “Can you speak Thai?” “A little.” “Do you work in Thailand?” “No” “Hw long stay in Thailand?” “Four years.” I suspect that Nid is wearing a wire and later, in private, will compare this years interrogatories with last years. You just can’t be too careful when you work at a bank…
Actually, I did OK, it was two hours From the time I left my apartment until I arrived back at the subway station. Somchai, my motocye taxi driver was still parked and sound asleep where I had left him two hours earlier. Talk about loyalty buddy, you can’t beat service like this!
Maybe tomorrow I will call Siam Bank’s call center and try to unlock my online access.
I wonder if they require a police report for that?
In less than one week, I managed to: lock my Siam Bank ATM card by entering the Pin code incorrectly four consecutive times; lose my Siam Bank savings passbook AND lock my Siam Bank online account when attempting to change my cell phone number.
Three strikes and you’re out farang!
After skulking around for a few days, I finally decided to take it like a man, so I duly notified Siam Bank via e-mail of my errors. Siam advised me to go to my neighborhood police station and file a lost passbook report.
I immediately dressed for success (combed my hair and put on some shoes) and walked down to the soi store where some motorcycle taxi guys hang out, waiting for customers. The proprietor raised her eyebrows meaning “You want moto- cye taxi. I gave the one motion Thai nod meaning “yes.” She barked out “Somchai, wake up! A cash customer is waiting!” Somchai sleepily stumbles out of his hammock, starts the bike and we are off to the subway station. Maybe last night Somchai hit the Thai whiskey a bit more than usual because I have a knowing fear that he will fall asleep at the handle bars, but some how he successfully transports me to the station.
I pay him the customary 20 baht and he falls asleep before he can pocket the fare.
I transfer to the Sky Train (elevated railway) at Mochit station, then detrain and walk to the police station.
I immediately make a great impression with the cops.
They have a ticket machine to assign the order of persons served, but for some reason I can not get my ticket. I am sweating profusely from the walk and pressing the buttons like mad, but nothing. A cop takes pity on me, walks over and with a theatrical press of his index finger presses a button and a ticket prints and pops out. I smile my ’aww shucks smile” and he responds with his “yet another farang” expression, then I am intercepted by Wan, a lithe and easy on the eyes 20 something police woman.
I explain that I lost my Siam savings passbook. I think Wan (Wan means Sweet) is a detective in training, because she peppers me with specific questions: “Oh, you lost your passbook? How? Where? When?” My Thai is being tested to the limit and Wan is growing increasingly suspicious. She changes dialects and consults with Pee Daeng (Elder brother Red.) I understand about 60% of the conversation, basically she says “Pee Daeng, this farang claims to have lost his passbook, but his story seems a bit strange to me. Maybe his documents are forged? They say farangs buy fake Ids at Khao San Road (backpacker ghetto) and I want to be sure before I give him the report.
Daeng, a hard looking man that exudes a suffer no fools demeanor replies “Wan, is this your first day on the job? Didn’t you notice the way the farang fumbled with the ticket machine? It is obvious that he is not clever enough to steal anything, let alone buy forged documents. But then maybe you’re right. Why don’t you phone Police Colonel Tang and tell him you just cracked the case of the farang gang stealing bankbooks; solved the heinous crime before it even happened. I think Pee Tang will transfer you back to Isan (The north-east, the poorest region of Thailand) and you will be writing up stolen chicken reports until you retire. Besides, look at him, the way he is perspiring, he could suffer a heart attack and die at any moment. Just what we need, some unhappy farang ghost wandering around our station.
Wan completes filling in the form in 30 seconds flat, adds a series of officious stamps and practically drags me out of the station. Heck, I did pretty good in there, now I’m off to the bank.
In Thailand, I can use my ATM at any bank’s machine, but for replacement ATM cards and bank books, I must go back to the branch where I originally opened my account. No problem, they know me by name there because I manage to lock myself out of my account about one time per year.
This time I successfully master the customer ticket machine, young bank hostess fetches me and advances me ahead of other people and deposits me at the desk of a senior branch official.
Good to see you again Khun Lance, what did you break, er misplace this time? We’ve meet before and Khun Nid nods sympathetically as my tale of woe unfolds. I present the police report, my passport and driver’s licensse and Nid efficiently begins the laborious process to issue me a new bank book and ATM card. (ATM pins are not reset here; enter the pin incorrectly and you advance to your local branch for interrogation)
It is interesting to see Khun Nid in action; her desk is about three feet form the copy machine, but she summons “Nong” (younger person, a.k.a. the young hostess) to make copies and gather other necessary forms and documents. Rank does have it’s privileges here. Khun Nid and I repeat our scripted conversation “Can you speak Thai?” “A little.” “Do you work in Thailand?” “No” “Hw long stay in Thailand?” “Four years.” I suspect that Nid is wearing a wire and later, in private, will compare this years interrogatories with last years. You just can’t be too careful when you work at a bank…
Actually, I did OK, it was two hours From the time I left my apartment until I arrived back at the subway station. Somchai, my motocye taxi driver was still parked and sound asleep where I had left him two hours earlier. Talk about loyalty buddy, you can’t beat service like this!
Maybe tomorrow I will call Siam Bank’s call center and try to unlock my online access.
I wonder if they require a police report for that?
