A bank that gives it away

    Every once in awhile I feel the need to assure readers of this column that everything I write about truly happened. Even the characters are real people, their names altered only because I don’t want them to kill me.
    The goal is to give the reader a taste of the absurdities encountered in running a business. That can only be done with real situations, with true circumstances.
    The reason I mention this is because something happened last week which I certainly wouldn’t have ever believed – someone offered me money to put into my business.
    Believable? So far, yes. But consider that I did not even have to beg and plead or tender my first-born son as collateral. The offer came out of the blue, no strings attached.
   Still not impressed? Ok, I saved the best for last. Here’s the kicker – the offer came from (drum roll, please) – a bank.
    Whoa, you say. Banks don’t do that. Sure, they’ll give you a credit card, or a home equity line or a car loan with only a minimum of pain involved, but I’m talking about a Business Loan!
    I’ve had plenty of business loans over the years, and not one of them came easily. Each request was met with a huge sigh from the banker, giving me the unmistakable inference that I was in big trouble if I couldn’t run my business without having to borrow money.
    I’d usually get the loans, but it would take months of pleading, haggling, shuffling of unimportant papers and, finally, threats that I would take my account elsewhere if they didn’t come through for me.
    So when Freda, my banker, called me last week, I assumed the account was overdrawn again. Little did I know the credit crunch was over.
    "Good morning," said Freda, getting right to the point. "I just wanted to see if you needed any funding."
    "That big check must have come in sooner than expected." I replied. "We’ll cover it today before you close."
    "You’re not overdrawn," she said. "I’m calling to let you know the bank is looking to grant you a commercial loan."
    I began to feel light-headed. "Pardon me."
    "We want to give you some money."
    My next question was pretty obvious. "Why?"
    "The bank wants to increase their commercial loan portfolio so we’re offering financing to our good customers."
    I have been called many things by my bank, none of which come close to "good customer." I was still skeptical.
    "We’re also aggressively seeking new business accounts," continued Freda. "If you know any business people who need financing, I’d appreciate you sending them our way."
    I had nothing more to say. My head was spinning. I thanked Freda profusely for thinking of me in her time of munificence and told her I would get back to her soon.
    I called Ralph, my general manager, and asked him to come to my office. "You won’t believe what just happened," I said when he arrived. "The bank just called."
    "Are we overdrawn again?"
    "No," I replied. "They want to give us a loan."
    "Why?"
    "Because we’re a good customer."
    Sometimes Ralph surprises me with his instincts. After he got through laughing, he cut right to the bone.
    "The only reason they’re offering you a loan," he said, still chuckling, "is because it’s the first time in 12 years of business that you don’t need one."
    He was right, of course. We would need extensive financing for a planned expansion, but not until the end of 1993. And because of that commitment, we couldn’t do anything else until then, meaning it was one of those rare times financing could not be presently utilized.
    That left one question – how did they know? "I’m sorry, Freda," I said when I called her back. "We’ll need plenty of financing next fall but we can’t use it right now. Can you hold it for us?"
    It was her turn to chuckle. "I don’t know how long this window is going to be open. Are you sure you don’t need a loan for something?" Maybe she knew I’d say no – I don’t care. All I know is I’m pretty sure I heard a note of pleading in her voice.
    And when I’m begging for financing later this year, that’s all I’ll choose to remember. For once, it was my turn to say no to the bankers.