I just had one of those mornings where you try to fix something that should be no sweat. Instead of getting it fixed, you are stopped dead in your tracks by robotic phone responders, even more robotic humans, rules designed to make sure no one can really help anyone. Long holds on telephone lines and them telling you every other minute that your business is really important to them. And in the end, you get disconnected and have to do it again. The hours roll by like a barren wasteland. Eventually, you stop caring. It can’t really be that important, can it?
You can’t reserve a place in the next queue, either. Even though you’ve explained your situation — in this case, explaining to your bank that after those five declines of your bank card shouldn’t have happened, and after which, ALL the declines have been reversed and now the bank is taking those repeated (obviously errors) from your account. It is their error, not yours but somehow, it’s still your problem.
In the course of this, you discover for reasons unknown, the bank has converted your simple savings account into a money market account and have been charging you $12 a month while paying you a whopping $0.83 in interest every year! What a deal!
Calling your bank, getting transferred, disconnected. Begging for a claim number or any number that will get you live entry into the next queue, from which you will likely be bounced to a yet another department. With and without a disconnection. Knowing you have reached your exhaustion point. You don’t care if you get the money back. All you want is hot coffee and a shot of adrenaline.
But let’s find the good parts.
Aren’t you glad you fixed that ridiculous savings account? You didn’t get done what you came to do, but at least you got done something done. If you hadn’t been hanging around your bank’s software for so many hours, you’d never have realized you had a problem. See? All good.
How many times did I plead for a reservation, a claim number, a person to talk to. A human conversation sans robots. The day vanishes while I hang by the phone. After a while, I wasn’t mad anymore. Too tired to be mad, to weary to whine.
This is how they do it. They get you so exhausted dealing with them you give up and crawl off to a quiet corner where you can suck your thumb in peace. It’s a fantastic system and …
It works. You never fix the problem. They get to keep your money for nothing. Life goes on. Dammit … I WANT MY MONEY BACK!
Banks. They are scum. Every last one of them.