An ordinary bank counter in South Korea. It is a battlefield where the curtain rises every morning with the command, "We love you,
Customer." It is a place where hundreds of millions of won change hands with a single number, and my performance review swings wildly based on a customer's mood.
I was a fairly competent banker there. At least, until I waged a massive battle with that 'idiot' boyfriend.
It was yesterday. It was a typical argument between lovers.
But his method of revenge was anything but ordinary.
Well, this man called the customer service center of the bank where I work.
And then he filed a complaint claiming that my attitude toward customers was 'poor.'
Good heavens, even if the sky were falling, there is a limit. To think he would drag his private feelings into the public sphere and threaten my livelihood.
This was not merely cowardice; it was the arrogance of daring to defy the 'Will of Heaven.'
To cool my head, which was filled with anger, I briefly escaped my daily routine and took refuge in a hotel.
But the cruel twist of fate did not stop there.
I lit a cigarette while gazing at the night view outside the window.
The cigarette smoke, mixed with complex emotions, filled the room.
Then, in a split second, hot cigarette ash fell onto that luxurious carpet.
In an instant, three tiny holes were pierced.
As I was about to check out, the manager rushed over.
He inspected the carpet and, with an expressionless face, declared.
"Customer, according to carpet damage regulations, you must compensate 20,000 won per hole, for a total of 60,000 won."
At that moment, the banker instinct inside my brain awakened.
Cost reduction, risk management, and efficiency. The calculator in my head spun fast.
'20,000 won per hole... then shouldn't I just reduce the number of holes?'
I went back into the room.
And I lit a lighter.
I embarked on a massive 'integration operation' to bind the three small holes into one.
With a crackling sound, the three dots became one large circle.
It was the moment a miraculous mathematical formula, reducing 60,000 won to 20,000 won, came true right before my eyes.
I went back down to the lobby and spoke confidently. "Okay, there is only one hole left. Here is 20,000 won."
That was when it started. That was when World War II with the manager began. The manager was speechless with disbelief, while I preached the perfection of my logic.
"You clearly said 20,000 won per hole, right? I just checked, and there was exactly one hole.
Even at banks, consolidating multiple accounts into one reduces maintenance fees, so why would carpets be any different?"
In the end, the lobby turned into chaos. Some treated me like a madman, while others burst into hollow laughter at that outlandish idea.
However, a corner of my heart felt strangely relieved.
Between my boyfriend's petty revenge and the hotel's strict regulations, I was fighting against the 'absurdities of the world' in my own way.
People say that if there is a hole in life, you must agonize over filling it. But sometimes, isn't it also necessary to have the courage to gather those small holes into one and burn them away with a bigger flame?
That foolish boyfriend who called customer service to try and ruin my career is, in the end, nothing more than a small hole in the carpet of my life.
Whether I gather those holes and use them as an opportunity for a bigger change, or live my life paying a 20,000 won fine and blaming myself for the rest of my life, depends solely on my choice.
Of course, I do feel a little sorry for the hotel manager. But thanks to that, I realized that the calculations of life sometimes need to be more creative than arithmetic sums.
