Today, I blocked @AskCiti from my Twitter because I didn’t think listening to me was a productive way for them to spend their time. Here’s the backstory.
Last spring, I accepted the challenge of being a Brownie leader for my daughter’s troop. How hard could it be to school them in leadership, respect and entrepreneurship? All that’s been a piece of cake. Then, we got to the cookies.
According to the WSJ, profits from Girl Scout cookies last year rose from $700 million to $714 million last year, after six years of falling about 1% a year. That’s no small change. Fast forward to Citibank, the bank entrusted with these funds. In two branches in New York City, where Girl Scouts is headquartered, tellers couldn’t figure out how to deposit our Brownie troop’s funds. The first time, I sent my husband. He came back grumbling about how he needed a store number. And then I tried at different branch. What’s your store number, said the teller. Huh, I’m not a store? No store number. No deposit.
Once I got back to the office, I come to find that the “store number” is the number plainly printed on the lower left of the deposit slip. The account number is on the right. Shouldn’t these huge entities be in sync on collecting funds and know how to read a pre-printed deposit slip? Instead, thousands of dollars sat in my backpack over a weekend.
I was frustrated so I twittered. That Twitter got a direct message from @AskCiti, asking for my phone and the best time to call. A Citibank social media rep was happy to help me. Really? This was the time to call into action the team in charge of the Citibank Girl Scout account. Just because I express myself through Twitter, doesn’t relegate the issue to social media.