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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WeymouthIf there is one thing I have learned living in a seaside town, it is this:
"Don't try to pop down the bank to pay all your bills first thing on a Monday morning."
This is because every single penny arcade in town will be in front of you in the queue, cashing up for the weekend.
I have found myself, hopping from one foot to the other, increasingly late for work, clutching a pile of bills that should have been sorted last week, while a bloke with a wheelbarrow slowly dumps his load (of MONEY, you filthy minded fools) onto the cashier's desk.
They have four desks open, and it's all penny arcade wallahs cashing-up, with only one set of money-weighing scales.
The other thing I have learned from this experience: "Gambling's shit"
Old skool QotW pay-off: Then I was sick in a hedge.
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Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Sat 18 Jul 2009, 10:01,
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