If only we could do it.

[Supernova]

A SENIOR MOMENT

 

 

Dear Sir,

 

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my cheque with which I

endeavoured 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 Pension, an arrangement

which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty 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, re-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 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 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 Solicitor, 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.

 

A s 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 8

 

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

[JillyBeanz]

I think this is absolutely hilarious and the funny thing is - it is a true letter that a bank manager received - FROM A 92 YEAR OLD LADY!! Go on grandma!!!! :laugh:

[judygram]

If only we could Bernie it would be wonderful.

[Luvparrots]

{Feel-good-0002006E} Way to go Grandma!!!! :evil: