Posted: 02 Febuary 2007 at 11:35am | IP Logged
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A 98 year old woman wrote this to her bank. The bank manager thought it
amusing enough to have it published in the New York Times. Dear Sir: I am
writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavoured to pay
my plumber last month. By my calculations, three 'nanoseconds' must have
elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account of the
funds needed to honour it. I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly
deposit of my Social Security check, an arrangement which, I admit, has been
in place for only eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief
window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account $30 by way of
penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs
from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant
financial ways. I noticed that whereas I personally attend to your telephone
calls and letters, when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the
impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has
become. From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-
blood person. My mortgage and loan payments will therefore and hereafter
no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank by check, 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
Contact Status which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am
sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or
her as your bank knows about me, there is 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, 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. Let me 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 toilet in case I
am attending to nature. 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. A password will be communicated to you at a later
date to the Authorised Contact.) 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 will play for the duration of the call. 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, New Year. Your Humble Client (Remember: This
was written by a 98 year old woman)
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