Paying your banker back in his own coin
Gaston de ROSAYRO
Personally I do not care for banks or bankers. In fact, I really do
not care for Old Scrooges sitting on piles of banknotes and wealth. They
become so impersonal after you deposit your hard-earned dough with them.
They keep annoying me all the time even though I am not overdue on my
credit cards or any repayments. Just the other day one bank called me
and told me that I had to pre-approve a credit card upgrade. And what
the heck, I didn’t even apply for an upgrade. Okay so they want me to
increase my credit limit and make me spend more.
Whatever happened to the savings habit they used to promote? Isn’t
penny-pinching frugality part of the banking ethic? But if you actually
delve into your relationship with your banker you will realise that it
is really darn difficult to talk to your modern-day Shylock. Personal
banking my foot! You can’t even get close to their ear on the buzzer.
And when you eventually do, the conversation would be like the Mad
Hatter trying to talk to the March Hare.
Okay, Okay I will explain it in simpler terms. You want to talk to
your banker. Or the guy or gal assigned to you as your personal banking
officer. You are immediately connected to an aloof automated telephone
voice system. Then you wait and listen to a cold unemotional voice
saying: “All our operators are busy at this moment ... please wait.”
Now I am holding the blasted phone to my ear and waiting interminably
15-20 minutes. That is a heck of a long time. A time I could have spent
bashing out an article of this nature and completing it as well. And
then I have to listen to the most annoying call -waiting music ever.
It’s the same guy singing rap and repeating the lyrics: “I wanna yai yai
yah. I wanna yai, yai ya!” Now if I could get my hands on the guy’s
throat I would without compunction strangle the daylights out of him and
his Yai Yai yah! The musical interlude is broken intermittently while
the distant ghostly recorded voice starts again: “All our operators are
busy at this moment ... please wait.”
Finally I have to verify myself and my existence by answering 20
highly secured questions. What was the maiden name of my grandmother?
Exasperated by this time I tell them that if my grandmother had remained
a maiden she certainly would not have been my grandmother. Besides what
the heck has my ancestry and my dear departed ‘Aachchie’ have to do with
my standing as a customer. Then I have to key in my telephone pin number
and disclose my date of birth.
So now I have had it up to my neck as well. So while waiting I
thought I would draft a quick letter to the bank’s top honcho himself.
So here goes: Dear Mr. Money-Bags Holder. I noticed that whereas I
personally answer your telephone calls and letters, that when I try to
contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, over-charging,
pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become.
From now on, I, like you, will choose only to deal with a
flesh-and-blood person, not a soulless, faceless, cold voice. My credit
card repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be automatic, but
will arrive at your bank, by cheque, addressed personally and
confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offence under the Postal Act for any other
person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application
Contract which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it
runs into 12 pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as
your bank knows about me. You see you have left me with no alternative.
Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be
countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her
financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be
accompanied by documented proof.
In due course, at my convenience, I will issue your employee with a
PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me. I regret that it
cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the
number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on
your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of
flattery. Now, allow me to level the playing field even further. When
you call me, press buttons as follows:
#1. To make an appointment to see me: #2. To query a missing payment:
# 3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there. # 4. To
transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
# 5. To transfer the call to my washroom in case I am showering. # 6.
To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
#7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my
computer is required. Password will be communicated to you at a later
date to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier. # 8. To return to the
main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7. # 9. To make a general
complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on hold, pending the
attention of my automated answering service.
While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music
such as that of the smooth and suave Dean Martin kind will play for the
duration of the call.
I also observe your bank has a new image. ‘Now you have a friend’ ...
your friendly banker’. Friendship, old Chappie, is based on trust. If
your bank is so friendly and trusting, how come you chain down the pens
to the counters? Well it is clear you don’t trust me, although your
legend proclaims that you are a friend. Indeed, in that case I will
certainly be quite willing to reciprocate that same type of friendship
and trustworthiness as displayed by you. And there was another of your
ads which proclaimed: ‘Do not borrow from your friends - borrow from us.
You will lose your friends. You will never lose us.’ It seems quite
unfortunate that the person who writes your bank’s advertising doesn’t
also approve the loans.I am seriously thinking of withdrawing all my
‘moolah’ and going back to traditional home banking. Surely, the safest
way to double your money is to fold it over once and put it in your own
pocket. Yes siree money can’t buy friends, but the way you are going
about it you can surely get a better class of enemy.
By the way I was also wondering if bankers can actually count. How
come most of your branches always have ten counters and two tellers? And
talking about tellers I prefer automated tellers to your real ones. They
usually have more personality.
Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an
establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement. May I
wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous weekend.
[email protected]
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