Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – December 6, 2004

Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – December 6, 2004

The Departure Of Captain Dweeb

Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – December 6, 2004 – I knew it was only a matter of time before Captain Dweeb left Ontario for parts known on our eastern seaboard. Captain Dweeb aka Twinkie is my good friend Glen of Scotiabank fame. He, of the Yonge and Eglinton branch, recently transferred to the great ivory tower down town, to sit near the other gods of banking – always casually dressed in robes of gold and bejewelled with diamond dollar signs.

Over lunch, I once made Glen promise me that he wouldn’t leave branch banking until I was ready to retire. He reluctantly agreed. Now I find out that he has broken our pact, and dashed my sense of banking security against the rocky shore of reality. It was bad enough when Glen left the branch. I missed our verbal banter and his ability to calm my bus shelter fears when I was on a worry bender. Forgetting to mention his competent, steady way of dealing with my various and sundry clients, would be a travesty of significant proportions. He is just a great guy.

I gradually got used to the fact that I no longer interacted with Glen on a regular basis. He had a new position to deal with and added responsibilities. However in the back of my mind, I knew he was just a phone call away, in the event that I had a financial melt down. Well now I find out that not only is he leaving Toronto – he and his lovely wife Lynn, assorted children and his old English sheep dog whom I call Dolly, Molly, Polly are leaving Ontario.

The east coast beckoned to my friend Glen and he wasn’t able to resist the siren call. I’m betting that I didn’t figure into the equation at all. Long forgotten is our lunch time pact (traitor) and our familiar names of Captain Dweeb and Sporty Spice. He is moving on and I’m staying behind to fend for myself in this cutthroat world of interest rates, mutual funds, potential retirement ages, predictable degrees of risk and financial profiles.

I’ve been cast aside. The bus shelter awaits. Now, in his defence Glen did leave his branch in the very capable hands of Nino when he went to the ivory tower. Nino is a terrific guy, and those of us who have met him, have been impressed with his friendly manner and obvious competence, and I appreciate all the help and guidance Nino has given to my clients.

I’m sure it’s true what “they” say – “that you can never go home”. It’s the same thing when you’ve had an exceptional professional relationship with a wonderful person. You are in sync – you share the same values and instincts – the same zany sense of the ridiculous in life – the same commitment to your word and to a timely response to business concerns – and the same wacky sense of humour.

I’m sure that I will never again be able to call up the Senior Manager of one of Canada’s five major banks and say – “Hi Captain Dweeb – it’s Sporty Spice calling. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll call me back promptly because I know where you live”. So I send Glen off with my warmest wishes for a wonderful life in Halifax, and for success in everything he does both,  professionally and personally. The only thing he needs to know is that he will be greatly missed. He is a rarity among bankers, and if the suits at Scotiabank are smart, they’ll never let him leave the bank.

And what of my bus shelter worries – my fear of never doing another real estate deal – my thoughts of ending up as a bag lady and losing everything I’ve worked so hard to attain. I used to go in and meet with Glen. He’d sit and listen patiently to my list of dreadful possibilities and the woeful outcomes that were sure to befall me. I’d be on the verge of hyper-ventilating by the time I’d finished my diatribe. Glen would close my file folder, look across his desk at me and say – and I quote “You are such an idiot”.