BanksYour Ginger Fuhrer froths, "I hate my bank. Not because of debt or anything but because I hate being sold to - possibly pathologically so - and everytime I speak to them they try and sell me services. Gold cards, isas, insurance, you know the crap. It drives me insane. I ALREADY BANK WITH YOU. STOP IT. YOU MAKE ME FRIGHTED TO DO MY NORMAL BANKING. I'm angry even thinking about them."
So, tell us your banking stories of woe.
No doubt at least one of you has shagged in the vault, shat on a counter or thrown up in a cash machine. Or something
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chthonic, Thu 16 Jul 2009, 13:15)
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Not really a bank, more a post office.When I was a student, my mum signed me up for a post office account, rather than the posh bank accounts my college mates had, much to their derision. No cheque book, no cash card, just a "book" with which to get money.
It had two columns, one marked "withdrawl" and one marked "deposit" which the cashier would fill in as necessary. One day, as I tried to take out £50, the rather ancient old dear announced she had forgotten her glasses, and promptly wrote £50 in the "deposit" column. Result: me and my mates drunk for 3 days, and they all signed up for post office accounts.
(, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 17:01, Reply)
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