It was a few minutes before quitting time when we got to see a banker. He said everything was fine and these things happen and he needed to go home because he was taking his wife to Taco Bell for dinner. If I wanted to be positive, though, contact the man assigned as my personal banker.
The next morning I drove to the branch, three banks away, to see him since he wasn’t returning my calls. He was out.
I was assigned to a banker who could have been Miss Teen-Age Business Woman of the Month. Have you noticed how corporations are hiring kids right out of High School these days? She checked over all my accounts. Everything was fine.
Well, how about lifting the card restrictions then? She was on the phone for a long time with the credit card division before giving me the fish eye.
“Did you make a purchase at WeightWatcher’s?” she asked looking at my belly that threatened to hide my belt buckle.
“Yes, you see with all the holiday food and-“
“Did you make a $400 purchase at Bloomingdale’s?”
“Obviously.” She leered at my Levi’s and sweatshirt. “In fact, $400 at Wal-Mart would be out of your price range.”
“I hate people that prey on others,” she said. “I’d like to have ’em in my grip for just a few minutes. Then they’d feel what it is to be victimized.” She had fire in her eyes and sparks were jumping off her teeth as she ground them.
“Well, if you find the guy that did it, would you do something for me?” I asked.
“Name it.” She leaned over her desk as if we were conspirators in a blood feud.
“Would you tell him I’m not really fat, just gained a little beer belly is all?”
It ended up with my credit card being deactivated and a new one will be issued. I use a credit card for everything and reverting back to checks seems archaic. I wrote one for car maintenance and the service manager said he needed to see my driver’s license. I’d forgotten that aspect of check-writing.
A service manager is a person who looks over your whole car when all you want is an oil change and informs you that motor mounts are broken, your differential has no oil, and either you’re a dipstick, or you need a new dipstick. I didn’t make out the last one because he was also looking over my driver’s license.
If you need me, I’ll be working with the identity theft department of the bank, and cramming for a driver’s license test.
Somehow, the doctor knew it would be a good week to schedule me for a stress test. He won’t have to use a treadmill.
I got another notice from the bank. The contact information on the new credit card, which has yet to arrive, has been changed to Sterling, Colorado. How does the hacker do that so fast?
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Thank a veteran.