RUBIN GETS COMFY AT HEARTLESS CITIGROUP
We were fine with the announcement that the former Treasury Secretary Robert Rubin is joining Citigroup, parent company of Citibank. But what disappoints us is that Rubin will evidently not be joining our local branch of Citibank in Brooklyn Heights as a teller.
After five weeks of what the New York Times says was "almost constant meetings to negotiate," Rubin was welcomed into the nation's largest financial services corporation by co-chairmen and chief executives Sanford I. Weill and John S. Reed. Rubin's gonna have a "corner office in the company's blond-wood and glass executive suite," alongside Weill and Reed, at 399 Park Avenue, and he's gonna head the executive group of Citibank's board, which means, basically, that he will be checking in for all strategic and managerial decisions but not getting awfully hands-on about the company's day-to-day doings-- a nice gig that's kind of a reward for a smart guy who presided over one of the longest economic booms in American history. Trouble is, day-to-day is kind where Citibank is falling down these days.
Last week, we presented a teller at our Brooklyn branch with a money order for $1000 that we'd borrowed hastily from our sister, only to learn that the money order would not be handled as cash. This was a big problem: a medical bill was overdue, a doctor was threatening legal action, and though people owe us a ton of money we only had $23 in the bank. We learned, in fact, that the money order would take even longer to clear than our sister's personal check would have taken, so we were deeply fucked-- and surprised that a) the teller didn't give a shit when we calmly and politely explained that this was an emergency and asked if anything special could be done; and b) the person we were referred to was a kind of floor-walking "hostess," whose job it is, apparently, to explain that there are no bank officers to speak to at this branch and that if this were truly an emergency the correct path of action would be... to get some cash and deposit it.
We think Robert Rubin would have seen the logical flaw in this reasoning. Moreover, we feel he might have had a bit more heart about our predicament. Rubin's heart has been demonstrated amply in his support while in government, for example, of the Community Reinvestment Act, which requires banks to make a portion of their lending available within poor, inner-city areas. A lack of heart is exactly why the Citibank brand has been tarnishing rapidly among people in our age group. So maybe, over the next few months, as Rubin begins the quiet, high-level promoting and lobbying that's obviously part of his assignment at Citigroup, he can spare a moment to take the elevator down a few floors, look in on the smiley-faces who oversee consumer banking, and see if he can help them get their butts in gear.
After five weeks of what the New York Times says was "almost constant meetings to negotiate," Rubin was welcomed into the nation's largest financial services corporation by co-chairmen and chief executives Sanford I. Weill and John S. Reed. Rubin's gonna have a "corner office in the company's blond-wood and glass executive suite," alongside Weill and Reed, at 399 Park Avenue, and he's gonna head the executive group of Citibank's board, which means, basically, that he will be checking in for all strategic and managerial decisions but not getting awfully hands-on about the company's day-to-day doings-- a nice gig that's kind of a reward for a smart guy who presided over one of the longest economic booms in American history. Trouble is, day-to-day is kind where Citibank is falling down these days.
Last week, we presented a teller at our Brooklyn branch with a money order for $1000 that we'd borrowed hastily from our sister, only to learn that the money order would not be handled as cash. This was a big problem: a medical bill was overdue, a doctor was threatening legal action, and though people owe us a ton of money we only had $23 in the bank. We learned, in fact, that the money order would take even longer to clear than our sister's personal check would have taken, so we were deeply fucked-- and surprised that a) the teller didn't give a shit when we calmly and politely explained that this was an emergency and asked if anything special could be done; and b) the person we were referred to was a kind of floor-walking "hostess," whose job it is, apparently, to explain that there are no bank officers to speak to at this branch and that if this were truly an emergency the correct path of action would be... to get some cash and deposit it.
We think Robert Rubin would have seen the logical flaw in this reasoning. Moreover, we feel he might have had a bit more heart about our predicament. Rubin's heart has been demonstrated amply in his support while in government, for example, of the Community Reinvestment Act, which requires banks to make a portion of their lending available within poor, inner-city areas. A lack of heart is exactly why the Citibank brand has been tarnishing rapidly among people in our age group. So maybe, over the next few months, as Rubin begins the quiet, high-level promoting and lobbying that's obviously part of his assignment at Citigroup, he can spare a moment to take the elevator down a few floors, look in on the smiley-faces who oversee consumer banking, and see if he can help them get their butts in gear.
posted by Lucia Toledo at 8:13 AM
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