Please enter your details to receive our blog updates.
Dear Bank Manager
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my cheque with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month.
By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have 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 Salary, an arrangement, which, I admit, has been in place for only twenty seven years.
I have also written to the scientists working on the Large Hadron Collider to tell them that their attempts to be the first to propel an object at the speed of light have been thwarted by your unauthorised overdraft letter-dispatching machine. They are understandably crestfallen.
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, this courtesy is not reciprocated. Therefore, from now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person.
My mortgage and loan payments will 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 form, 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 you know about me, there is no alternative.
Naturally I will require them to attend a medical and will need full details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) along with documented proof.
I have taken note of your own procedures for proving identification and they will be required to provide proof of identity on a regular basis. I understand that this is necessary just in case they have been practicing the dark arts and through some sorcerer’s magic are no longer the person that they were the last time they proved their identity to me.
Again, in line with your own procedures I will, on occasion, pass this confidential information to many unrelated parties through acts of breathtaking negligence.
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 modeled 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.
I have also taken the opportunity to review my charging structure for the services which I am obliged to provide for you as follows;
There will be a £25 charge for every time I am forced to break down my already fairly simple instructions, into Duplo sized chunks so that the simpleton behind your counter can understand them in order to complete my transaction.
Where this is unsuccessful and I am required to perform a charades style mime to convey my instructions there will be a further £25 charge.
For an additional £10 you may wish to upgrade to my gold level service whereby using the contents of my shopping bag and some practiced puppetry, I perform a short play whereby Roger Red Hat who has eight potatoes gives three of them to Billy Blue Hat, leaving him with just five potatoes, demonstrating visually to your cashier the £5 that I wish to withdraw.
When you call me, please press buttons as follows; 1, to make an appointment to see me. 2, to be told that your call is very important to me but that I am not going to answer it for a very, very long time. 3, to be plunged into a dark telephonic abyss and forced to redial whilst contemplating the bittersweet irony that you cannot use the redial function on your phone by virtue of the fact that you pressed the 3 button.
I have synchronized my availability with your opening hours and I am therefore guaranteed to be only available when you are at work and cannot attend. This system will continue until I realise that we are no longer in the nineteenth century.
So again I thank you for drawing my financial tardiness to my attention and I am sure that these new procedures will enhance my offering to you. Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement. The full details of this charge is buried very deeply inside the 146 page terms and conditions document enclosed.
Kind Regards, your loyal customer
P.S. From time to time I would like to plague you with an incessant barrage of marketing material. If you would prefer not to receive this literature then please indicate your acceptance of my offer of not sending it to you by unchecking the previously checked box if this is not what you would like me to not keep on not doing.
Christine du Plessis - 14:42 on the 15th January 2011
Whoever writes your blogs should have them published in the paper. They are too clever to be hidden just on your website. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed this one. Am about to share it on Facebook.Dean - 21:02 on the 16th January 2011
Excellent, give this person a peanut. I wish we all gave this sort of response.Bryce - 18:53 on the 29th January 2011
A wonderful commentary about the sad state of customer service in modern banking.peta rose - 16:51 on the 3rd February 2011
Absolutely fabulous! And still they take their fat bonuses. Not just the banks either!RosePip - 21:21 on the 28th February 2011
The author is so,so, right! well done darlingDavid Edwards - 22:22 on the 28th February 2011
superjosephine breen - 19:01 on the 1st March 2011
what can i say? "fabulous"Samantha Elliott - 13:21 on the 25th March 2011
This is fantastic - i love it!
harry beeby - 21:37 on the 14th January 2011
So true you would never believe . I remember only too well the tricks they would try, mind you they did not bargain for some one like me. No need to say more.