||[Jun. 11th, 2010|02:57 pm]
Final Weekend. It SHOULD be the easiest. But it won't. This year we had to buy our tents, as the tent rental company is going out of business, so it's now or never. Which means it's not a case of breaking them down and tossing their bins in a truck and who cares if the lids don't fit quite right. |
Except now if the mice get them...it's my problem. And we have to make sure they get put away someplace. With the right pieces. Plus the usual closing. At the end of a long, hot weekend. Whee!
In the "only I could do this" category:
I'm putting a fitted sheet into the washing machine and one of the fitted corners grabs the lid of washer, just as I'm bending over the machine and CRACKS me across the bridge of the nose. Which would be bad enough, except somehow, when I react, I back off just enough....and then bend again just enough...to repeat.
That is a special kind of hurt I don't think I've ever experienced before. There was a concentration of force onto such a tiny, sensitive area...I'm still flinching just thinking about it. I thought I'd have a black eye or a bruise, it hurt that much. But no, you really can't tell. I can touch all of my nose except for that one teensy, tiny area...and if I do...I sort of black out. Interesting.
Chevy Chase Bank: you can rot in hell. I had to wait in line for ten minutes so that you could then tell me that you're sorry, but you don't have $500 in singles to exchange? For a current customer?
YOU ARE A BANK. $500 in singles is NOT a lot of money for a normal sized branch. If I am wiping out your stash, you have some very serious problems. I would forgive you if your teller and manager had demonstrated a shred of remorse. But no, your manager looked at me like I was homeless person coming off the street and said "You really have to order change a week in advance."
Dude, I will call in a $2000 change order. 500? You are a bank. Consider having some money. I have marked the date on the calendar when my IRA comes up for renewal. Prepare the farewell party for my accounts.
Admittedly, I've hated them for years, but the above, added to my realizing that my new phone which came in to replace the one whose hinges blew out, has bad speakers, so a good connection sounds like a bad one and a bad one sounds like I've gotten ahold of someone in Kazahkstan, speaking Kazahkstani or whatever, so I will have to get it replaced...again. Combine that with the following morsel of fine customer service, and we are at the final straw.
So, in shifting accounts around, I forgot that while I moved the mortgage payment to a new account, the home equity loan, which is in my ex's name, was still coming out of our joint account. Which I can't close because I can't get the home equity loan moved because it's not in my name. Which I only remember two days after he's deployed. Again.
So, I got a nastygram that it hadn't been paid. So I quick transfer funds and then call the home equity folks to tell them not to worry the money's there, pull it on out. So, I call, and this is how it goes.
"Are you Ex-husbands-name?"
"No, I'm his wife." Because the exact detailed truth is often not helpful when working with customer service. "I just want to make this month's payment."
"Well, m'am, since you're not Ex, I can't give you any information about this account."
"S'aright, darling, I don't need any information. I'm just making a telephone payment."
"So, you want it to come out of the checking account that you have set up for auto-pay?"
"What amount, m'am?"
"The amount that's due."
"I need you to say the amount in numbers."
"Well, I don't know what the amount is. Can't you tell me?"
"No, I can't release any information about this account to you." This is where the internal cursing begins.
"O-kaaaaay. So, I'll say an amount and you tell me whether I have to go higher or lower. When I'm just above the amount, tell me to stop." Because I am NOTHING if not a team player and a clever monkey. I will play the freaking game, if I must, as long as I accomplish my goals.
"I can't do that, m'am."
"So, let me get this straight. I just want to pay you money. I have the account number, the password, the address, phone number, name and social security number of the account holder. What security would be breached exactly, by telling me the amount? I'm having the money drawn out of an account that has MY name on it. Once it's drawn, I'll actually get the bank statement that tells me what the amount was. If I was a dishonest person, I would have just deepened my voice and told you that I WAS Ex. And you would have just handled it. But no, I was honest and now I CAN'T MAKE GOOD ON A DEBT TO YOU BECAUSE YOU WON'T TELL ME HOW MUCH?" Don't worry, I'd pulled over into a parking lot as soon as the spittle on the windshield began to obscure my view.
He said "No, m'am." And I said "Well, then I guess I can't pay today." And we both paused. And waited. And finally he said "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
I expletive you NOT.
For an update -- I went home, dug out the last bank statement, pulled all of the paperwork together, at lunch break called again.
You know what? The guy who answered the phone today just said, oh, you want to make a payment on the account? Are you authorized to access the checking account? A joint account? Oh, okay, it's done. Thank you for your business.
Expletive. That almost pisses me off MORE.