Yesterday, I called Bank of America about getting an ATM card for a small corporate account used for convention-running and CD publishing. After digging up sufficient details to confirm that, yes, I’m one of the signers of the account, the agent looked for a verifiable signature. It turns out that, since there hasn’t been occasion for the corporation to write checks for a while, they don’t have one accessible, except in the bank branch where the account was opened.
This is rather inconvenient, but understandable, even commendable, concern for security.
At least, that’s the impression I would have if not for the event the previous day that brought the matter to the front of my mind:
It seems that BoA had sent an unsolicitied offer for a corporate credit card with a $32K limit (about an order of magnitude about the corporation’s usual asset level, and about two orders of magnitude over the amount of debt I’d feel comfortable having the corporation assume for any length of time). At the time, it went the way of all paper, or at least the way of all paper that really needs to be cut into tiny little diamonds that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men would be hard-pressed to put back together again.
Having failed to receive my glad accceptance of their offer (for what other outcome could possibly exist?), one of BoA’s little trained minions called me at the office. About the time I figured out what they were calling about, the minion was explaining that they just need “a few questions” answered. She asked what my income was, and I explained the concept that there is “the corporation’s money” and there is “my money” and never the twain shall meet. A bit baffled by this abtruse financial concept, she asked what the corporation’s income was, and I gave her a very rough, and rather low for a $32K credit card, estimate.
The next question was the current value of my house. Obviously, that “wall of separation” I had explained fifteen seconds earlier was as unacceptable and perhaps incomprehensible a concept to her as the “wall of separation” between church and state is to Donald Wildmon.
Having put up with enough nonsense, I told her that the credit card was NOT to be generated, and hung up.
It seems that they have ironclad security protocols when they inconvenience the customer, and tissue-paper-clad security protocols when they inconvenience BoA’s marketing department. :mad: