Laughing all the way to the Bank

Recently the financial sector has gotten some bad press.

There have been some people who took a few gazillions more than they should and scuppered a few retirement plans, it’s true, but I’m sure that they felt bad while they were doing it.  At least they probably did when they weren’t busy shopping for designer suits or having sex with beautiful Russian teenagers.  They probably didn’t have time to feel too terrible when they were working out the clever rationalising algorithms that enabled us to borrow the noose to hang the stability of our children’s futures, but now that we’ve sent them off to retire to the Bahamas on their government sponsored golden handshakes they’ll have plenty of time to reflect and feel remorseful, I’m certain of it.

But they’re not all greedy, thieving bastards, you know! Try to remember that for the most part they are an honest group of charming people who are only trying to prevent the constant wear and tear on our mattresses that keeping our salaries under them would surely cause. They charge us astronomical sums for seemingly nonsensical administrative matters for our own good.
We all need to learn a little responsibility with our money (B. Madoff excluded, naturally).

Some people consider the financial sector to be a dry and dull group of people.

I contest this.
Banks have an enormous sense of good, old fashioned fun and love nothing more than the jolly jape of a practial joke! We all love a wheeze of this nature, and if you can’t take it, well, you’re just an old stick in the mud!

I’m going to tell you a little story that is sure to have you rolling in the aisles (and goodness knows we all need a chuckle in these uncertain times)

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Bank..

The Client has been customer of a certain High Street bank for twenty years (since infancy, you understand).

Whilst there have been times in the distant past that she was perhaps not quite the darling of Rushey Green, we must acknowledge that these early years were due to the folly of youth and the unavoidable period that a fledgling artist must spend slaving in a garret, partaking of the frugal, yet nourishing, cuisine du DHSS.

Menu du Jour

Pan-continental noodles boiled in their own plastic pot
cooled with organic Thames Valley water

followed by

Smoked infusion of Morrocan Black & Marlborough Light in a handmade paper casing

**

Nescafe

 However, for well over a decade now, there has been a steady stream of respectable income interspersed with a few spectacular spikes into the business account, the latter causing The Client to be telephoned personally by her branch manager with thanks for her continued patronage. Shocking but true.

In the mid 2000’s The Client moved for an unspecified period of time to another country and time zone. Prior to leaving she informed the bank and enquired as to how she would be able to move Sterling to her new US bank account. Irritatingly, the new-fangled internet banking would obstinately not allow international transfers as it does not believe that anywhere beyond the boundaries of Great Britain should exist (fair point, but still..)

The bank manager assured her she could access her funds almost instantly by faxing a request, they would keep an authorisation on file,  or by telephoning the branch, they were very happy to help, thank you for not taking your money away from us and out of the country etc.

This was where the fun began! 

Once the client was safely out of the country, the bank immediately changed all of its phone numbers to 0800 or 0845 numbers so that nobody outside of the UK could telephone them. In addition they elected to assign “Business Managers” or BM‘s to anyone who held a business account with them. These BM‘s would then exclusively be in charge of all financial transactions between their assigned clients and the bank and would, theoretically, make themselves available via mobile telephone during normal office hours of 11am – 2pm GMT (minus lunch hour, of course). In order to qualify for this position within the bank they would have to be a maximum of 12 years old, have an IQ of 87 or below and it would be mandatory to skip the customer service training workshop or know how to dial international numbers.

To make sure things don’t get too dull and predictable, the bank also enjoys switching BM‘s on clients every six months or so without actually informing them of the change in personnel, so when a client tries to call or fax about their account they are met with a disconnected line. Boy, we’d love to see their faces when that happens in this economy!

Priceless!

From here, we invite you to take your seat at the Theatre of the Absurd.
Don’t be shy, we could all do with an evening out.

Shh! The curtain is rising!

Enter The Client

Deciding that it is time, once again, to transfer some money to the USA, she searches through her files and uncovers details for the last BM that she has details for and pens a letter requesting a sum be sent to her US bank.
Dusting off the antiquated fax machine and plugging it in she feeds the paper in, which is digested rather poorly and with not a few grumbles. Eventually, after half an hour and considerable swearing, it goes through. Several days pass. No money appears.
The Client phones the mobile number for her BM only to find it, alarmingly, disconnected. Hunting through the website of NutFest Bank, she finds the one telephone number that is accessible from overseas for lost or stolen cards.. In desperation she rings. After being on hold for 20 minutes listening to the soundtrack from Hell’s waiting room and some arguing back and forth, she is put through to Customer Service (CS)  in a call center in Birmingham

Client:  Hello, I am calling from California and I am trying to find out who my Business Manager is and why my request for fund transfer has not been responded to.  Can you help?

CS: Who is your Business Manager? 

Client: That is MY question for YOU. I do not know as the last one has had their phone disconnected and I cannot call my branch. 0800 and 0845 numbers do not work from the USA.

CS: Call your branch, they can help. Here is the number 0845..

Client: Um, I think I just said that I can’t call 0845 numbers from overseas. Do you have another number for them?

CS: No. But you can ring them on 0845…

Client: Ok, let me explain. I CANNOT ring them on that, it is not physically possible. Can you tell me who my business manager is?

CS: Let me look…Yes. Her name is Idiot Mc Idiot and her mobile is 0785 ….. and her fax number is 0208 …

Client then rings the BM who, of course,does not answer and leaves three messages on three consecutive days explaining that she has resent the fax to the correct number, please telephone and confirm that the fax has arrived and the funds have been sent. 
No money arrives. No call comes. Nada.
Once again, phone call center in Hades:

Client: Hello, I am calling from California. 0800 and 0845 numbers do not work from the USA. Can you please put me through to the supervisor of Idiot McIdiot, my Business Manager? I would like to make a complaint.

CS: Yes, the number is 0845..

Client: No, as I said I cannot dial that number. Can you put me through or give me a mobile number?

CS: We don’t have a mobile number for that person. I can’t put you through either as it’s in the business center which is in Richmond (???)

Client: Can you tell me who it is?

CS: It’s JR Hartley and he’s on holiday, fly fishing.

Client: Is there anyone in the entire bank who can actually be spoken to about sending me my own money? I am now fairly annoyed that you are assigning incompetents to ‘look after’ me who seem to specialise in avoiding phone calls and not doing their job.

CS: Why don’t you telephone your branch and speak to your branch manager? The phone number is 0845…

Client: I. Can’t. Dial. 0845. or.0800. Numbers. From. Here.

CS: I completely understand your frustration, Madam, and I totally comprehend your problem. Why don’t you speak to our Customer Complaints line? I’ll give you their number. 

Client: Oh, can you wait a second? I just need to get a pen… Ok, ready:

CS: Ok, it’s 0845… Hello? Is there a problem, Madam? Madam? Hello? It’s 0845 0800 0845 0800..

Curtain closes on Client stabbing self to death with blue biro. Audience claps and cheers wildly and compares playwright to Ionesco/Sartre in bar afterwards. NutFest Bank sponsors transfer of production to NYC.