C
cutiepie24
Guest
A 96-Year-Old's Letter to the Bank
Shown below is an actual letter that was
sent to a bank by a 96-year-old woman. The
bank manager thought it amusing enough to
have it published in the New York Times.
Dear Sir:
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my
check with which I endeavored to pay my
plumber last month. By my calculations,
three nanoseconds must have elapsed between
his presenting the check and the arrival in
my account of the funds needed to honor it.
I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly
deposit of my entire income, an arrangement
which, I admit, has been in place for only
eight years.
You are to be commended for seizing that
brie 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, pre-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 repayments will therefore
and hereafter no longer be automatic, but
will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed
personally and confidentially to an employee
at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offense 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
Notary Public, 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 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.
Let me level the playing field even
further. When you call me, press the 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.
Password will be communicated to you at a
later date to the Authorized Contact.
8. To return to the main menu and to listen
to options 1 through 7.
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
Shown below is an actual letter that was
sent to a bank by a 96-year-old woman. The
bank manager thought it amusing enough to
have it published in the New York Times.
Dear Sir:
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my
check with which I endeavored to pay my
plumber last month. By my calculations,
three nanoseconds must have elapsed between
his presenting the check and the arrival in
my account of the funds needed to honor it.
I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly
deposit of my entire income, an arrangement
which, I admit, has been in place for only
eight years.
You are to be commended for seizing that
brie 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, pre-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 repayments will therefore
and hereafter no longer be automatic, but
will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed
personally and confidentially to an employee
at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offense 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
Notary Public, 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 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.
Let me level the playing field even
further. When you call me, press the 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.
Password will be communicated to you at a
later date to the Authorized Contact.
8. To return to the main menu and to listen
to options 1 through 7.
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