Days of a Kuwaiti Bank Teller

I finally did something and changed the blog's look. I hope this font is easier to read than the old theme. Please let me know what you think!

On occasion I'm obligated to escort my aunts on visitations. These occurances contain plenty of gossip, refreshments and pointed questions in regard to my job. The same women ripped me to shreds asking me which sector I wanted to join and which jobs I was applying to when I was first applying to jobs. They continue to do so after having held the same job for a few years now.

Have you ever had someone ask you what you do for a living and then look at you with pity when they hear your answer? It's a miserable feeling and I always swear to myself that I will never do that to anyone else. It's dismaying how often I've come face to face with this scenario. These malice-tinged inquiries hint that I should be disappointed in my job and despondent. Why would I settle for a job that anyone can do? By anyone, they mean predominantly those people without a college education or expats. Every time I'm placed in this environment I do my best to defend my job. It only serves to make the situation worse. They begin treating me like a addict in denial, tutting and shaking their heads.

I walk away feeling like I haven't accomplished anything. They continue to hold onto their prejudices and preconceptions. It doesn't matter one bit to them that I get fulfillment out of my job and that I love helping people day in and day out. Yes, customers frustrate me at times but I'm still doing this because when it comes down to it, I love my job. Maybe if I told them my monthly salary they would respect it more. Probably not. I don't see what joy people get out of belittling what others do. Miserable old cows.

Of course there are those that instantly light up at my answer and proceed to interrogate me on what credit card limits and loans they can get. It's always good to get a little business out of these visitations. I walk out feeling proud of the job I do and helping someone out. These aren't the moments that come to me when I go to bed. It's always the snide comments that I remember. How I wish it wasn't so!