Europe imported more than Fast Food restaurants from America. As far as I am concerned, the biggest change was the monetary change or exchange. Europe was quick to see the benefit that came with money that is the same in every state in the USA. The Deutschmark disappeared along with the Franc and other coins. Instead there was the Euro. With the arrival of the Euro, all Europeans residing on the European Continent could now purchase goods without having to change money at the local bank.

The event of the Euro certainly was helpful for my cousin when it came to buying something from France, a mere 20 miles from her home town. It was not helpful for me, trying to purchase a book I was reading in English, for my cousin who needed the book in German. The book was available. I found it on the internet. The store who sold it was 50 miles from my cousin’s home-town. I was going to surprise her with the gift of the book.

Contact with the book-store in Germany was easy. Yes, the book was available for ten Euros. No, the book store did not accept credit cards. By the third e-mail I understood that all that was necessary was for my bank to wire the equivalent of ten Euros to the book-store. The book-store in turn would send the book to my cousin. I was told it would be “a piece of cake”.

It was Saturday Morning and I was off to the bank. I parked the car, went in the main entrance and entered the vestibule. The teller was young, smiling and ready for business.

“How may I help you?” was the phrase she used. I told her.

“I need to wire ten Euros to Germany,” I said. She looked at me blankly then turned to the young man next to her.

“What’s a Euro?” she asked. The young man standing next to her told me that the person I needed to see was not at the bank on Saturdays.

“If you come back Monday I’m certain we can take care of that.” He smiled reassuringly.

“Are you sure I can bank on that?” I said. To me that was an old phrase often used when a person was in doubt. Neither one of the two people standing there understood what I said although it was in plain English. The girl turned her attention to a pile of money in front of her and the young man reached for the phone that wasn’t ringing.

“This is a bank right?” His eyes expressed what his lips did not say. There was that old lady who had a request about something no one really knew.

I was dismissed. I wanted to slam the door shut in leaving but bank doors mechanically open and close slowly, deliberately, and quietly.

Monday Morning I was off once more to the bank. This time I was escorted the five feet across the vestibule to a little cubicle containing two chairs, one desk, one oversized monitor and one person male. The person male smiled absentmindedly, shuffled a few papers and than gave me his full attention.

“How may I help you?” He asked.

“I need to wire ten Euros to Germany,” I responded. The smile on his face froze. He shook his head. He was sorry he said, but he could only wire the equivalent of ten Euros to Germany.

“You do know the equivalent,” I responded. He shook his head. He did not know offhand, he said and he didn’t have the tools handy to figure it out. I pointed at his computer and told him that whenever I need to know a certain fact I don’t have handy at the time, I go to my computer. He let me know that couldn’t be done. He rose to his full height and excused himself. In passing I quipped:”Exactly what is it that this bank does?”

On the way home I stopped at Dillon’s Grocery store to chat with Macy, my favorite checkout clerk. Macy’s “Good Morning Miss Elsa” rang trough the store like cheerful bells. Macy was also in charge of Customers relation where it was possible to cash checks, and mail stuff, including money orders. Macy sympathized with my frustration. No, she couldn’t help with the transaction. While Dillon’s was able to do transactions on a national level, for international exchanges I’d have to go to the post office. But she knew the equivalent of Ten Euros.

“To be sure,” she said “go home and bring up Google on your computer.” Why didn’t I think of that? Why didn’t the bank officer think of that?” I responded.

“He probably didn’t want to mess with a little old lady” said a bystander who had listened to the conversation. “Not much money to be made there,” added another. The general consensus was that the bank employee knew little and cared less about the importance of a satisfied customer.

AT home I went to my own private little cubicle and brought up “Google”. Within moments I had the equivalent. Now it was off to the post office. The lady behind that desk was eager to please. She explained the procedures available and thought perhaps international money order would be the way to go.

“Just to be sure” she said. “Let’s check on it.” Her computer was as accommodating as her mind. Unfortunately the answer wasn’t what we both wanted to see.

“Sorry,” she said” Germany doesn’t accept international money orders.” It was back to square one, back to the bank. This time the bank officer was more accommodating. Yes, he said he could wire thirteen dollars to the German Bank. About that time I remembered something Macy had said about the cost of wiring money. Just to be on the safe side I inquired: “How much will that cost?”

The answer came quickly. “That’ll be 50.00 dollars” he said. “That is highway robbery,” I responded and walked out. I went home and e-mailed the store owner in Germany about the entire episode. His response was a philosophical one. “Bureaucracy and Frustration are ways and means to build character”. He wished me luck on my future transaction. Euros are available at a local travel bureau. Other bank clerks from other banks were quick to give me the equivalent of the Euro to the dollar. That was by phone and by phone age is not that decisive a factor. And while it is possible to get Euros in Springfield, you still can’t get them to go from here to there for less than 50.00 dollars.

Elsa