>The letter, 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
>salary,
>an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years.
>
>You are to be commended for seizing that brief 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 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
>
>(Remember: This was written by a 96 year old woman)
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
>salary,
>an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years.
>
>You are to be commended for seizing that brief 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 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
>
>(Remember: This was written by a 96 year old woman)
