But about "my" bank. First of all, why do people say that: "MY" bank. They aren't owned by you. And they aren't palsie-walsies with you so why do we say "MY?" But I digress, my brick and mortar bank, SouthState, formerly CenterState, is, like all the others, of course, evil. (I need to bank them commas, yo!)
I logged on this morning and discovered that last week they charged my account a $5.95 "service charge." Now the previous bank, CenterState, did charge that amount each month but they called it a "maintenance fee." (Now Blogger's shitty spellcheck, unlike normal spellcheck can't even figure out what I'm trying to write when I type maintainenence. So I suck at both spelling and typing, bitch...deal with it!)
For two months they hadn't charged me a fee and since the account rolled smoothly over to the SouthState website and everything looked new and fresh, I thought they automatically put me into FREE CHECKING*. Asterisk indicates that the account has to be eChecking, that is, no paper monthly statements just emails. Fine by me. I had it that way under the old bank but they were too cheap to give a discount of the monthly fee for that since they required you either have at least two direct deposits or 15 debit card charges. SouthState clearly stated in all the online info I checked that they did.
I called customer service and got ahold of a bored black female rep who coolly VID'd me then without being given an estimated completion time, dropped me into a "brief hold" while she "researched the account." Well of course she must have had difficulty using her computer to research why I got a charge so surely she had to put her purple knit sweater on (they keeps the office so damn cold), slip on her SouthState logo imprinted face mask and amble her rather ample behind down the hall, down the elevator and to the breakroom for lunch, looking for the reason for my charge in the fried catfish and ocra she brought from home and heated up in the microwave. At least my hold music wasn't horrible.
After 20 minutes or so of this shit, I stayed on my cell phone and called the customer service line on my Google Voice phone. This time, a heavily-hairsprayed, Jesus-lovin' older white lady picked up. She must have got different "white people" training since her VID included all the bells and whistles including the question "What was one of your most recent deposits, how much, where was it from and how often does it repeat?"
She too wanted to put me on hold but I told her I was "on hold" with another rep already. And soon after I revealed my sneaky play, the first rep came back (Halleluia! She Lives!) and I had both on speaker phone with me chit chattin' 'bout how I was a silly-willy and never changed my account to the FREE* version. Apparently, I had to ASK to go to a FREE* account. Silly me, why wouldn't I want to pay six bucks a month for this level of "service?"
I politely declined their offer to make the switch. (Well, the second lady offered, the first was probably giving me the over-the-phone-silent-side-eye for pulling the ol' double rep whammy on her. Ja'Qwanda don't play that. Uh, uh. No sir-ee.) I voiced my mild complaint about "Ja'Qwanda's" shortened VID and lengthened hold time, told them I'm going to my local branch in person, bid them a good day whilst tipping my "entitled fat-ass white prick top hat" and hung up.
Hmmm. "And it's the BANKS that are the evil ones?" I wonder to noone, since I'm all alone...and this is why.
A few minutes later, I'm sitting at the branch within easy walking distance from my house (which, of course, I drove to) talking to the young lesbian-looking but not lesbian-acting bank employee and regaling her of my tale of woeful mistreatment at the hands of the call center cogs begging for solace and empathy from the in-person, Hitler-youth-coifed (yes, on a girl) sprocket before me. She spent an inordinate amount of time staring at her computer screen, assumedly perusing my account, frowning (though I couldn't see her frown since, of course, she was masked up) and likely confused by the many large and suspicious cash withdrawals and bank transfers lacking any discernable regular pattern.
I remind her that I'm no newbie in the rodeo of bank shenanigans, recalling back in 1998 when Huntington Bank in Florida was bought out by SunTrust and they too kept the archaic monthly fee despite my qualifying for free checking. I told her I got upset back then when I asked a SunTrust employee about that and he said "Well you didn't ask." Some things never change.
She never apologized for the charge. She implied that THEY had sent a mailed-out "welcome packet" and asked if I received it. I acknowledged I did. She tells me that in there were instructions on how to change my account to a FREE* one. Hmm. I don't call her a liar but, well, I think she's a liar. I notice that she has a small bottle of Purell near her computer for her use while I sit on the other side of the plexiglass partition with a small bottle of some cheap-ass "Genuine Joe" brand sanitizer for us peons.
She unceremoniously switches me to the FREE* checking and is ready to bid me a good day with the tip of her imaginary "superior dike hard hat" no doubt, when I ask for a courtesy waiver of the fee. "I can only refund one of them." she admonishes me like I'm asking for a free ride since the stone age. "I know, I accept the previous charges." I'm not asking for anything I don't deserve. I'd never do that. That'd be, well, evil.