Welcome back my friends, to the topic that never ends. The quest to sort out technicalities and allow The Pony to resume paying on time with plastic. The issue goes on and on, unresolved. I'm sure you're tired of the subject. It's like gently chastising a very-much-alive pony. Nothing good comes of it, but you feel a little better when you're done.
Tuesday, I rose bright and early, with the intention of leaving the Mansion by the Not-Heavenish hour of NOON, to get to the bank with The Pony's legal papers before lobby hours ended at 2:00. After my shower, I decided to try one last call to the bank. Just in case I could save myself a trip. Perhaps the Credit Card Guy had gotten through to the bank, and the matter was resolved. STOP LAUGHING!
This time, my call to the branch bank was answered! Bank Phone listened to my tale, and said, "So... all you have to do is fax them your paperwork."
"Well. I don't have fax capabilities. That's why I need your bank to do it. You already have the copies."
"Fax technology is so old. You'd be better off to email it to the person who requested it."
"That's the thing I need THE BANK to do. He said he was calling to take care of it yesterday, but since I couldn't get anyone to answer the phone at your branch or the main branch, I'm pretty sure HE couldn't get through, either."
Let the record show that Bank Phone didn't even have the common decency to apologize for my lack of access to service with my account. She DID, however, provide an excuse.
"We are down two people at this branch. One just left to take a job at a finance office. We have hired two new people, but it will take 8 weeks to train them."
WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN? Train them for what, not-answering the phone? The Pony was trained to deliver mail in 5 DAYS! I'd say that's harder than counting money and entering data on a computer terminal and talking through a speaker and shooting a canister through a tube.
"So I guess I'll have to call the credit card company again, and get an email address, and then I can bring in my paperwork. I hope I have time to get there before the lobby closes. I was on hold over 10 minutes yesterday. What is your name, so I can ask for you when I get there, and not have to explain it again?"
"Oh, I can give you my name, but I'm not at the bank. I'm working from home."
!!!!!!!!!!!!
I called the credit card number again. Got a different Credit Card Guy, even though I mentioned the other one's name, and asked if I could talk to him. Nope. He was probably working from home. CCG2 was just as polite. Just as understandable. He gave me HIS name, as if it was good for anything. He took all my info, DOB, SS#, and didn't hassle me about the full account number. Though he DID say they'd need it for the branch bank to fax them the information.
"They say they can't fax it! Their fax is too old. But they can email it."
"Email is okay. Here's where to send it..."
"Is there a particular person to send it to? Like you or the other guy, who know what's going on?"
"No. Just this email."
"The other guy said they would get a response right then that it was received."
"No. You should allow AT LEAST two days. They will notify the bank."
"Then how will we ever know if the security hold is taken off?"
"Call the branch bank."
AS IF they would answer the phone! Anyhoo... by this time, it was NOON:35. I rushed to T-Hoe and headed to the bank. It takes about 30 minutes of town driving. The lobby was open. No mask requirements. I was the only customer. A Loan Officer came from behind the counter holding a disposable cupped beverage. She got right up in my space! Even though she was wearing a mask, so she should have known better. Maybe she's always been a close-talker. I stepped back, and held out my letter.
"I know WHAT needs to be done, I just need someone to DO IT! We got this letter about a security hold on our credit card account. They need a copy of the legal paperwork showing a name change."
"Oh, we can fax that."
"Um. No. Can you email it? I have the email address right here. Here's the letter, too, saying what's going on."
"Sure. Let me see."
Loan Officer took the letter and the index card with the email address. She walked off! Didn't motion me to come along. Just left me there, and went about 10 feet into her glassed-walled office and sat down at her desk and started pecking at the keyboard. I stood there behind a couple of chairs in the tiny waiting area.
"Looks like this credit card was closed on September 1st."
"No. Nobody closed the credit card. Maybe that's when the hold went on."
"I don't know. We can't access any of the credit card information. That's the people in Minnesota. But if they say they want a copy of the paperwork, that's what I'll do."
Loan Officer stood up and fed the letter through a machine that looked like a shredder, although I'm pretty sure it was some kind of scanner.
"Okay. Is that all you need?"
"Um. Aren't you going to send them THE LEGAL NAME CHANGE PAPERWORK that they need? You only have the letter they sent me."
"Oh... sure. I'll do that."
SHEESH! That branch bank might need to hire somebody to tell the other employees to "breathe in, breathe out," because they seem pretty helpless when left to their own devices. Anyhoo... I walked over to the door of the glass office, and handed her the papers.
"You'll need to unstaple them. And then I need them back, because they're the originals with the raised seal." [Can't be too careful giving instructions, you know.]
Loan Officer scanned and sent. She came back to the door and handed me all my papers.
"Sorry, I was a little sloppy."
SHE HAD WRITTEN ON MY ORIGINAL LETTER! I guess she never heard of a cover sheet. For one to be so quick to offer a FAX, you'd think she'd understand that concept. Seriously. She had written the full account number on the top of the letter, made a mistake, crossed it out, and put the rest of the number underneath that messed-up part. These bank people have ONE JOB, and that involves working with numbers...
"Okay, so the Credit Card Guy (2) said I should allow two days, and then YOUR BANK will be notified that the security hold is taken off. They'll send it to the email address who sent it. Not to me. So... should I call in a couple of days [c'mon, we all know I'll have to drive over there] to see if you've heard?"
"Oh, I'd give it AT LEAST a WEEK."
"Well, the bill is due on the 15th, so I hope it can be paid while there's a hold on the card."
"I'm pretty sure they'll let PAYMENTS go through on a hold. You just can't charge."
"Okay. Well. I'll wait a week."
SWEET GUMMI MARY! Do you think this issue is going to be taken care of? If you do, I've got some nest egg rocks in Hillmomba that I'd like to sell you. But don't think you can contact me by phone!
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Farmer H says we should email it ourselves. I guess he hasn't been listening for the last year that my printer/scanner hasn't been working. He says The Pony can do that with his phone. Yes. I think he COULD. If he was home long enough while working his 12+ hour days. The Pony's whole point was that the branch bank already took copies, and has the info, and should be able to send it with just a phone call. If only the world worked that way...
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6 comments:
What an outstanding bunch of malarkey. God help us all.
After reading all this runaround hoo-ha, I can see why it takes eight weeks to train any newbies. Seven of those would be to knock OFF any enthusiasm for getting the job done quickly and correctly.
Nursejoan,
It's almost as if each corporate office has a Manager of Shenanigans, who gives workshops presenting new ways to thwart customers in need of service!
***
River,
Heh,heh! You'd think they were getting overtime, or a commission for each job not-well-done.
My goodness. Dealing with people at doctors' offices, behind cash registers... sometimes I feel like hooking them up to see if there's any brain activity.
I recently had a doctor's "support person" argue with me over a prescription. I needed a new one, I was almost out of a med, and she said, "We just gave you one for 90 pills," and was huffy, like I was grinding it up and snorting it. I said, "Yes, but I take three a day." Pound your hoof on the ground three times, and do that 30 times in a row...
A long time ago, when K-Mart was still around, I was buying over a hundred composition books. They were 25 cents each. The cashier started counting, "One, two, three, four--$1. One, two, three, four--$2." I said, "Perhaps you could count them all, then divide by 4?" She looked at me, eyes empty of feeling as well as intelligence, and then continued, "One, two, three--$3."
THESE are the people who will be changing my diaper in the nursing home. I'm worried...
Sioux,
I need to redouble my efforts to get my proposed handbasket factory up and running! I'm not sure some of these people will be able to FIND your butt to change your diaper in the nursing home! It will only be worse by then, what with that Common Core crap passing for education.
I have to make an appointment by the end of the month, to get my prescriptions for the next 6 months. Between the doctor (I mean nurse practitioner) and the pharmacy, what could possibly go wrong?
Sioux, I am shocked at that K-mart cashier. Truly shocked. I would have asked how many you had, trusted your count and divided as you suggested she do.
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