In my 21 years of living, I had never met anyone who banked at Goldmen Soles. It was like it existed in a completely different world from mine; I'd never even heard of them before. Their nearest location was nearly forty minutes away in Century City. When I walked inside the building I could feel all eyes shooting at me, even if for a split second. I stood out like a sore thumb.
"Um, excuse me," a woman in a casual skirt and pressed button-up called out to me, confusion in her voice. "Can I help you with something?"
"Yes, I'd like to check the balance in my account."
Her nose crinkled slightly and her eyebrows knit. I could tell she had a suspicion about me; like I'd said something off-putting. She looked over me and then gestured me towards a lounge area. "Please have a seat, someone will be with you in a moment."
Looking around the empty lobby and the various employees available, I furrowed my eyebrows. "Uh, okay?"
She doubled down, nodding at the couches. I brushed it off and went to sit down. Suddenly I felt like I was invisible. A handful of people came and went, being assisted and treated like a priority. They were all dressed in business attire and exuded class. Then here I was, in a wrinkled shirt and old jeans.
A part of me felt so uncomfortable, I wanted to stand up and leave out. On the other hand, I knew that's what that snarky bitch wanted. So, after what felt like an hour I decided to go and approach the counter.
"Excuse me," I called out to a small man busying himself on a computer.
He peeked up at me for a split second, then turned his attention back to his computer. "Yes?"
"I'm here to check on the status of my account," I said, irritated.
"Are you..." he trailed off looking me over. "Applying for a position here?"
"No, I have an account here."
"Oh," he said amused. "Why did I hear one of our receptionists tell someone you're here for a job application."
I twisted my face up looking back for her. She was off in a corner laughing and talking with another customer. "I have no idea. I told her I wanted to check my balance."
"Do you have your account number?" He asked, with his face still skewed.
"Not on hand," I sighed.
"Not a problem, go ahead and have a seat and I can look you up. I'll need your debit card, your ID, and the last four of your social," he said in a cool disinterested manner, almost like he expected me not to produce the items.
Taking out my wallet I fished out my ID and the debit card Eleanor gave to me. As soon as he laid eyes on it he perked up, surprised. He turned his entire body to me, seeming a lot more open to assisting me.
I handed him both cards and he held them one beneath the other, seeming to scan every letter and number on each of them. After panning back and forth from my ID to me, he sat them both on the table.
"Mr.Voss, my sincerest apologies. I do not have access to your account, but I can swiftly escort you to my manager's office," he explained.
"Is there a problem?"
"Not at all," he said standing and sliding my cards back to me. "It's just that I do not have the clearance for an account of this magnitude."
Of this magnitude? How much money did she give to me?
Suddenly he began to treat me as if his job depended on respecting me. He circled the counter to meet me and gestured towards the back. "Right this way."
Standing to my feet, I nodded and began to follow him. Suddenly the receptionist appeared in front of us.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Roberts! I hope he isn't bothering you, I asked him to wait-"
"Bothering him," I interrupted.
The man, who seemed to be named Mr. Roberts looked dumbfounded.
"Yes, I was hoping you wouldn't make a scene," she said in a low voice.
"Juliette-" he began before she rudely cut him off.
"I assumed he'd have enough sense to leave on his own, but I was just about to get security to escort him out."
Just as I suspected. She was just gonna make me wait until I left. I sized her up, getting ready to snap on this Mary-Kate and Ashley-looking bitch before he spoke up.
"Juliette, this is one of our executive customers! Not only did you have him waiting for an hour, but you also wanted to have security toss him out!?"
"Executive," she said to him, with an amused smirk. It was like she was waiting on a punchline. When she realized he wasn't joking, she began growing pale. "Oh- Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!"
"Why are you saying sorry to me," he asked annoyed.
She covered her face, "I didn't mean any disrespect-"
"Apologize to Mr.Voss and make yourself scarce," he ordered, embarrassment written all over his face.
"I am so sorry, Mr. Voss!"
I rolled my eyes brushing her off. "No you're not, but whatever."
She stared blankly, then he quickly shooed her off. I could see frustration washing over her as she scurried off. Like this was what she was trained to do and now her world was flipped upside down. This Mr. Roberts guy probably wasn't any different, he just had more information than she did. I was about ready to get my ass out of here.
Before I knew it I was in a large modern office. All the surfaces looked like slabs of marble straight from stone. The sunshine was bright shining through the windows, and everything looked like it'd been scrubbed clean with a toothbrush.
There was an older white sitting in a tall office chair. He didn't even look up as he spoke, "What is it?"
"Hey Greg, we have a platinum card member here to check the status of his account."
The old man's eyes shot up to look me over. He then looked at Mr. Roberts for confirmation, who gave him a confident nod.
"Please come right in," he said hesitantly. "Thanks, Roberts."
"No problem, I hope you get everything sorted out here Mr. Voss," he said leaving out and closing the door behind him.
Before I could even sit down he eagerly asked for my ID and social security card. "My card? Don't you just need my last four?"
"Your platinum membership comes with a high level of security. That wasn't explained to you when you opened your account?"
"My Grand-Aunt opened it for me," I explained fishing out my SSN card. He grunted in response holding out his hand.
Once I gave him both documents he scanned over them intently, as if looking for some kind of flaw. After a long while, he finally went to his computer and started typing. After a few clicks, he furrowed his eyebrows and moved his glasses from his eyes.
"Sit tight, Mr. Voss. I'm gonna go ahead and get the police on the line," he said with a smug grin.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, I knew you looked familiar, you're that crook that stole from First Fitzgerald's Bank. Now you're in here trying to access an account opened by Eleanor Fitzgerald? Your Grand-Aunt-"
I had nearly forgotten about my very public legal issue. I hadn't thought about how it would look for me to be trying to check on a large sum of money from Eleanor right now.
"I know it sounds crazy, but I promise you. She is my Grand-Aunt. You don't know the full story."
"I know Eleanor personally," he began. Standing from his chair, he circled his desk and dragged himself to the door. When I turned to watch him, he looked me right in the eyes as he turned the lock on the door and pulled his phone out saying, "I'd know if she had a Negro as her Grand-Son"