AROUND this time last year, I learned something no KPI ever taught me: sometimes, the most valuable feedback comes before you even finish introducing yourself.
“Yes I know you,” the client said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I raised an eyebrow, smiled back. “Wow, I hope it's all good things, Sir.” He nodded. “Of course. You've been very helpful.”
Small talk, maybe. But the kind that lingers like a well-placed compliment.
Midway through, he started counting milestones on an invisible scoreboard — condo, houses, vehicles — all bank-backed, all pointing to us. Each was mentioned like a trophy polished for display.
My only response: “Thank you, Sir. I love my job!” He shot back, “That’s the spirit. If you love your job, your job doesn't feel like work at all.”
I told him he echoed my Tita, who always believed passion should lead the way: “Choose what you’re passionate about.” And she was right. Passion doesn't erase stress, deadlines, or migraines — it just turns them into challenges you’re willing to wrestle with.
Still, that’s easier said by someone who’s never had to explain why a “real-time” transfer wandered into a parallel universe.
And if you think that’s extreme, I once had a customer storm into the office in full panic mode — bringing a pistol — because his mobile call got cut off mid-conversation with one of those hotshot property developers who usually make headlines more for their empire than their empathy.
Trust me, “client expectations” is an entirely different ballgame when firearms are involved.
And then came the line that landed like a stiletto on tile: “In business, relationships are the foundation. You won't stick with a company if you don't have that. Same with banking -— people won’t stay with a bank if the service isn't good.”
He nailed it. Metrics, reports, and KPIs may bask in the spotlight, but relationships are the stage itself — without them, the curtain never rises.
And unlike those infamous “CC All” emails I once wrote about — loud, unnecessary, and cluttering everyone’s inbox — some feedback actually sticks.
Sometimes, it's gratitude for years of service; other times, it's nothing more than, “The teller is beautiful.” Nobody, however, ever writes, “The pen was chained securely,” or “The chair was stable.”
Yes, that was an actual survey answer. Funny? Sure. But also telling. Sometimes, a pleasant personality makes the wait disappear faster than a transaction slip. A warm smile beats a long queue — but dimples won't reboot an application that’s been down for three hours.
And here’s the caution: in today’s world, commenting on “beautiful faces” could get you more than raised eyebrows — it could get you a summons. Customer service is safest when the compliment is about service, not facial symmetry.
That little survey blurb even dragged out a memory from decades ago: a credit investigation report that read like bad poetry. “The house is very conducive with its cool breeze. And the wife is very accommodating.”
My boss groaned, “Mae, tudlui ra gud ni si Mr. A.” So I called him: “Mr. A, I know you’re good, but this isn’t an essay writing contest. CI reports should be brief, concise, and factual.”
Or at least close enough.
Client testimonies — poetic, flirty, or flat-out absurd — do more than amuse. They cut through the noise and remind us of what matters. They’re clarity in an industry drowning in paperwork.
There will always be days when work feels like work. But then come the reminders — sometimes a heartfelt “thank you for being part of our journey,” other times just “the teller is beautiful.” Both carry the same message: you mattered.
And that, dear reader, is the kind of ROI no dashboard, KPI, or quarterly report would dare attempt to calculate.
Try encoding “the teller is beautiful” into a matrix and see how quickly Finance demands a footnote.
Still brewing thoughts — no sugarcoating, just stories steeped in truth.
