"Banking service", sounds like an oxymoron.
Here is something I picked off the London Times, strike one up for the little guy...enjoy:
Dear Sir:
I am writing to thank you for bouncing the cheque with which I endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations some three nanoseconds elapsed between his presenting the cheque and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire salary, an arrangement which, I admit, has only been in place for a meagre eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity and also for debiting my account with $50 by way of penalty for the inconvenience I caused your bank. My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways. You have set me on the path of fiscal righteousness.
No more will our relationship be blighted by these unpleasant incidents, for I am restructuring my affairs in 2000, taking as my model the procedures, attitudes and conduct of your very bank; I can think of no greater compliment to offer you.
Please be advised of the following: whereas I personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when contacting you I am confronted by the impersonal, ever-changing, pre-recorded, faceless entity, which your bank has become. So now I too choose only to deal with a flesh and blood person.
My mortgage and loan repayments will no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by cheque, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee of your branch, whom you must nominate. You will 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. In due course, I will issue your employee with a PIN number, which must be quoted in all dealings. I regret it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of button presses required to access my account balance on your phone bank service; imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
My new telephone system is very much like yours. My Authorised Contact at your bank, the only person with whom I will deal, may call me at any time and will be answered by an automated voice. Pressing buttons will guide them through an extensive set of menus:
1) To make an appointment to see me:
2) To query a missing repayment;
3) To make a general complaint or inquiry;
4) To transfer the call to my living room;
5) To transfer the call to my bedroom;
6) To transfer the call to my toilet:
7) To transfer the call to my mobile phone;
8) To return to the main menu and listen carefully to options 1-8. They will be put on hold, awaiting the automated answering service.
This may take time but uplifting music will play for the duration.
As your bank has often pointed out, the ongoing drive for greater efficiency comes at a cost - which you have always been quick to pass on to me.
Let me repay your kindness by passing some costs back. The advertising material you kindly send me will be read for a fee of $20/page. Enquiries from your nominated contact will be billed at $5 per minute of time spent in response. Debits to my account, such as the penalty for the dishonoured cheque, will be passed back to you. My new phone service runs at 75 cents a minute, so you would be well advised to keep your enquiries brief and to the point.
Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.
Yours sincerely ........................ |
