Bank‘s Year-End KPIs

Old Wang was carried into the bank.

He lay on a makeshift stretcher, his old cotton-padded coat emitting a musty smell, his thin, bony hands covered in age spots. Several young, strong sons, sweating profusely, carried him carefully, as if they were carrying a fragile porcelain. Li, the bank lobby manager, quickly approached, his professional smile becoming a bit stiff.

"What's going on?" Li asked, his voice with a hint of barely perceptible tremor.

Old Zhao, Old Wang's son, explained breathlessly: "My dad, he...he needs to activate his social security card to receive his pension. They said he has to come in person."

Li glanced at Old Wang lying on the stretcher, eyes closed, and a feeling of helplessness surged within him. To complete its year-end KPIs, this bank had launched a "nationwide social security card activation" campaign. The tasks were cascaded down through the hierarchy, with targets specified for each branch and each teller. They had racked their brains for these targets, even shouting the slogan of "door-to-door service". But the scope of "door-to-door service" was limited to the community. Who would have thought that someone would directly carry a "customer" to the door?

"But, he...he can't sign like this." Li scratched his head, a little embarrassed.

"My dad said, he'll use his fingerprint." Old Zhao pointed to Old Wang's wrinkled hand.

Li took a deep breath and reported Old Wang's situation to the bank manager. After listening, the manager remained silent for a moment, then simply replied, "Special situation, special handling, it must be completed!"

Thus, the following scene unfolded in the bank lobby: several bank staff members frantically lifted Old Wang from the stretcher to the counter, found some ink, and carefully pressed Old Wang's finger, printing a crooked fingerprint on the activation form.

After activation, Old Zhao repeatedly thanked them and carried Old Wang away. Li watched them depart, suddenly feeling that everything in front of him was absurd. He turned around and saw his colleagues with tired smiles on their faces, as if they had just won a hard battle. They congratulated each other for having completed another target.

Li returned to his workstation and was about to sit down when he suddenly heard a commotion in the lobby. He walked to the door, puzzled, and saw that Old Zhao was back.

"What's wrong?" Li asked.

Old Zhao said helplessly, "My dad said, he... he wants to withdraw his pension."

Li instantly collapsed. He pointed to the ATM not far away and said, "Can't you use this?"

Old Zhao shook his head: "My dad said he wants to use cash, and he wants to use his own card, not mine."

Li looked at Old Wang, lying on the stretcher again, being carried back in. He noticed that Old Wang's eyes were actually open.

"Grandpa, look at you, all this trouble just to activate your card and withdraw money, why?" Li tried to communicate.

Old Wang said weakly, "I... I just want to see how the bank... how the bank gives me my money."

Li's heart skipped a beat, and he seemed to understand something. He ran upstairs again to find the manager.

"Manager, Grandpa Wang still wants to withdraw cash." Li reported.

The manager put down the report in his hand, looked at Li, and said seriously, "This is the customer's reasonable request, we must fulfill it! Moreover, we must complete all the branch's KPIs today!"

Li was silent for a moment, took a deep breath, turned around, and went downstairs. He walked to Old Wang, with a trace of helplessness in his smile, and said, "Grandpa, please wait a moment, we will get the money for you right away."

For the next hour, Li led all the bank staff members in providing "VIP service" to Old Wang—lifting him to the counter, letting him watch as the teller took out a thick stack of cash from the safe, counting it for him, and then letting him personally sign the receipt. Old Wang was very satisfied and printed another crooked fingerprint on the receipt.

As he was leaving, Old Wang said in a mumbled voice: "Next year...next year, I'll come again."

Li watched them leave, his heart filled with mixed feelings. At this moment, a colleague came over and patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Li, we've exceeded today's KPI! Let's celebrate together tonight!"

Li looked at the smiles on his colleagues' faces and felt like he was in a giant black comedy stage. He suddenly felt that this bank, this world, seemed to be a little off. He looked down at his work ID card, then looked up at the "Customer First" slogan on the wall, and laughed, a little bitterly. He thought, maybe tomorrow, he would be carried to some place like Old Wang, to complete some absurd target. Because rules are rules, and no one can escape them.

And just then, a line of eye-catching red text suddenly popped up on the bank's electronic screen: "Congratulations to this branch for successfully activating 1,000 customers! Completing the annual KPI!" Below the screen were the busy figures of the bank staff, all with tired but happy smiles on their faces. They didn't know they were just actors in this black comedy.