That’s right, they opened my skull, removed my brain, boggled it around in their giant boggling machine, and placed it back in my skull.
How did they do this? Well, I was right on my way to getting boggled when they neglected to deposit my paycheck last year. Well, I suppose “neglect” is a weak word, since you’d have to be completely and utterly incompetent in at least 15 different ways to fuck up a simple deposit - which I made in person - and for which I recieved a receipt. Thank fucking GOD I kept this receipt, since I needed to present it to them when my check card bounced on $5 worth of cat food at the grocery store 2 days later. I almost closed down the account then, but with checks out and the hassle of switching my auto payments to the credit union, apathy ruled in their favor. They got the money in within a few hours, the manager of the branch ate a little crow, and life went on.
Until last week.
My husband deposited over a grand in cash to pay for some musical equipment online. Our check card was declined. No big deal, says I, it was a holiday Monday and the funds didn’t get counted until Tuesday.
Tuesday comes and goes. The card gets turned down when I try to open a customer account at an online store. I didn’t even charge anything to it, and it’s declined.
Wednesday I stop into the Den of Frightening Incompetence and ask the teller to find out what’s up with my check card. She calls the main office. She covers the reciever and asks, “Have you or your husband reported this card stolen?”
Mental reply: “No, you idiotic twat. If I had, do you think I’d be standing here asking you why its not working?” I did not say this, which I think was one of my more accomplished moments in civilized society.
She calls me two hours later at work. Explains that they’re still not sure why it happened, but they think someone else called to report a different card stolen, and someone keyed in our account number by accident.
Wait, hold on. Your policy for reporting and logging a check card as being stolen doesn’t apparently allow for, oh say…verification? Does this word sound familiar to anyone in your employ? Could a financial institution possibly have some sort of procedure to check for errors? First no one seemed to catch that your end total one August day last year was $700 over, and now your fraud division can’t muster up the brain activity to compare a name with an account number?
When I fully close the account down this week after my last check clears, it will be my indignant pleasure to inform the main branch manager of my experiences. I will expound upon how lucky it was for everyone involved that I didn’t need emergency access to the funds in my account over the three day weekend. I will extole the virtues of my new credit union, to their shame.
I honestly am beginning to wonder if everyone in the world has to fight with every corporation they do business with just to avoid getting royally fucked over.
