Investing for Beginners

Note: this is a long and text-heavy post, so if you are looking for something to quickly cast your eye over on the bus, this may not be it.

Investing, you say?  Should be a fascinating post.  Bear with me*.

pig with me and build your merits.

In contrast to the financially-savvy image I present, in reality my knowledge of investing and shares and dividends and so on could be charitably described as "limited" and realistically described as "just enough knowledge to ask questions that I think sound knowledgeable but are in fact the questions of a baby." 

Recently though, I started using Sharesies**, because I realised that investing in shares combines one of my least favourite things (saving) with one of my most favourite things (gambling!) and that it was basically a socially acceptable version of the pokies.

So now I look at my Sharesies and say things like "Oh the US50** is up" or "oh no, the Sustainability Fund has dropped back again" and everyone looks at me and thinks 'ah yes, a fuckwit, but what a financially sound fuckwit she must be."****

Anyway, this foray into investing reminded me that in the distant past, when I worked at Eftpos, it was part of a Bank and they gave me Bank Shares which are, as we know, the most serious type of shares and which paid a dividend once that confused the fuck out of me when I saw it on my bank statement, and then I left the company and completely forgot about the Bank Shares for ten years.

Financially. Sound.

actual photo of me thinking about my finances

So I thought perhaps I would ring the bank and see if I still had the shares, and here is the story of how that went.  Names of bank employees have been changed, although they were all delightful, even the robot.

--- 

First I rang the 0800 number, because the website didn't have a number listed for "I think I have shares in you," and I got Anita. 

"Hello," I said, "I worked for Bank about 10 years ago and Bank gave me shares, but then I left and all of my contact details have changed and also I don't bank with you any more, sorry, and I forgot about the shares until now so I thought I would ring and see if I... still had them." (Next time you ring the bank and the person on the phone sounds tired bear in mind that they have perhaps just dealt with me.)

Anita didn't take it personally that I didn't bank with them any more, and transferred me to another department that might be able to help.  "I have found it!" she said.  "The team you need.  I will put you through."

The team I need was not, in fact, the team I needed but I talked to Vic and she was also helpful and she gave me a number to call, and she asked if I knew my SRN number.  I did not.  I did not in fact know what an SRN number was.

But I wanted to make sure I was well-prepared for the team I actually needed, and so I said: "can I just confirm with you, that's an SRN number-" and here I attempted to use the NATO phonetic alphabet, which went as well as it usually does- "S for Sierra, R for Romeo, N for (unnaturally long pause) Nut?"  

And she said yes it was, and so I called the next number.  One of the menu options was "if you have an enquiry in relation to your investments, please press 4" and I pressed 4 even though my enquiry was "yeah, do I have any?"

Then I got to Talita, who found me in the system (which was incredibly heartening because at this point I was beginning to believe I had imagined the shares and potentially myself) and she said: "You had staff shares.  Did you ever convert them to regular shares?" 

Well I don't fucking know, do I.

So I said that, but much more politely, and Talita gave me the number of the company that look after the Staff Shares Division, and I rang them.

After a long time on hold the call picked up and I heard a pleasant, even, monotone voice say: "Hello. This is Brent, how can I help you? Let's start with your name."  And I thought ooh! they have got AI.  (Most NZ companies don't for phone stuff, and so it's a bit of a novelty.)  I said, clearly and precisely, "Alice."  And the voice said, "Great! How can I help you today?"  And, assuming I'd got to the part where they redirect you to an actual person depending on what words you used, I said, "Shares."

Then there was quite a long pause and the voice said, "...what exactly about shares" in a confused tone and I realised that oh my God I was not actually talking to a robot, I was talking to a person that I had just been talking to as if they were a robot and so I ran through my "maybe I have shares" spiel in absolute mortification.  (Brent seemed fine with it. Maybe it happens to him often.)  And Brent said "yes, I can see you in the system, can you just tell me the address you had on file with Bank?"

But alas, I could not tell Brent, for I did not remember.

Despite me taking several random stabs at Wellington suburbs Brent pleasantly and evenly informed me that without an address, or my Bank Employee Number, he couldn't tell me dick.  And I said that's ok Brent, fair enough, I understand.  And then I said farewell to the Man Who Wasn't A Robot and I rang Bank back.  

On the original number I called in the first place, because it turns out there's no menu option for "I worked here back when Katy Perry was a breakout artist and I have some questions".

The rep who answered my call was Tina and when I said "yo Tina I worked here in the year that Poker Face charted and I need to know my employee number" she actually said "oh my God" and immediately transferred me to HR.  

As expected, HR had my full employee file and gave me my details in ten seconds flat and then I rang the Staff Shares Division people back.

"Hello.  This is Brent, how can I help you?  Let's start with your name."

"Alice."

"Great! How can I help you today?"  (I'm still not entirely sure that Brent isn't just a very good robot.)

"Brent it's me! I called before and I couldn't remember my address and I think I have shares."

"AHA!"  Brent literally yelled AHA! and I was so delighted.

And then Brent took my employee number and looked in the system and started asking me about my address again and in the interim I had Google Mapped a whole bunch of shit around my old flats and honestly had a decent crack at it but then Brent said, sorrowfully, "no, it's none of those" and I apologised and he said "but I have enough information to give you the information you want". 

Which, thinking about it now, he potentially didn't but he just took pity and wanted to put me out of my misery.

"You did have staff shares," Brent said, "but there's a forfeiture period, so if you don't stay with the company for three years, they get forfeited.  So when you left they were... gone.  They aren't there any more."

I laughed and I thanked Brent for looking into my, as it turns out, complete and total lack of Bank Shares.

"Sorry about the inconvenience," said Brent.

*today at work two colleagues were having a discussion, which I was only vaguely listening to but was aware had been going on for Some Time, and then one of them said "Ally will know!" and asked: "For 'bear with me,' how do you spell it?  Is it like a bear?" And it was. 

**Sharesies is an NZ app which makes investing easy and fun for idiots such as myself. I started using Sharesies because a) it looked fun and b) I was at a networking thing and a particularly, uhhhh, self-confident financial advisor was burbling on about investments. I had just read an article about Sharesies, which was at the time quite a new platform, and in an attempt to do Business Chat I said unto him: "What do you think about Sharesies?" 

And he looked at me in a way at once contemptuous and completely blank, and he said: "Oh, is that what you call investment shares?" And, because it isn't polite to hit people at the networking meeting, I explained what Sharesies was, and he said "I wouldn't know anything about that," and turned away and started talking to a property developer. 

And I thought, get fucked! I will Sharesies my little heart out, and I will show you. 

Note: I am not paid by Sharesies. I just think it's a great platform. 

***don't think the US50 is actually called that, suspect it might be called something else

****the pinnacle of my fuckwitness was thus: I have a 'wine broker', which is actually just a person from VinoMofo (online wine delivery service) who calls you when you are, according to their algorithm, likely to run out of wine, and sells you more. 

Mine is called Zahn (because of course he is) and I quite like him because he rings me with recommendations like "I took this to band practice and everyone loved it' (of course he is in a band) and "this case shits all over the other case". If anyone from Vino Mofo is reading this don't tell him off, his millennial reviews always trick me into buying more wine. 

ANYWAY - the pinnacle of my fuckwit share-having wankerdom was when I was sitting on the couch, talking to Mum and flicking through Sharesies, and Zahn rung to sell me some more nice wine.  "Oh no," I said to Mum, "how VERY inconvenient.  My wine broker has called while I was in the middle of reviewing my investment portfolio!"   

Note: I am not paid by Zahn's band. I just think it's a great platform.