Maddenation
Banking
I have this neighborhood bank right around the corner (I sometimes walk to it) that I use because it’s right here in the neighborhood and so friendly and all. Norcrown Bank. Anyway, my children have also banked there, and some, like Patrick, still do. So I was only too happy to do Patrick a favor the other day and deposit a check into his account # 453… oh wait, I shouldn’t do that right? Well, I was coming back from some errands and had the check with me, so I decided to stop at the bank on the way home. I didn’t have Patrick’s account number with me, but I knew they’d have it at the bank. The teller, a new person who didn’t speak English very well, agreed to look up the account number, but came back after a little while and told me the account had been closed.
Closed? Well, maybe he had closed it when he left for Ohio, I thought. For the time being, until I could check it out, I asked her to put the check into my savings account for safe keeping. She apparently didn’t hear the word “savings” and the money ended up in my checking account. I called Patrick that night and he said his account was indeed open and contained a considerable amount of his money. So I agreed to settle it the next day at the bank, which was a half-day Saturday.
Confronted with the actual account number, the teller had to admit that, indeed, the account existed. I said I wanted to take the money out of my checking (another new, possibly “trainee” teller was now involved) and put it into my son’s savings. Because the money had not gone into my savings account, I had to write a check and sign it over to Patrick’s account. Aware that banks like to hold up your money while checks clear, I specifically asked whether there’d be any problem transferring the money over, since my account couldn’t fully cover the current check until the original check cleared. I was told immediately that there would be no problem. They would merely do a cash transaction. No muss, no fuss.
After the bank closed, I realized I needed more cash for my trip to Myrtle Beach, so I went back to use the ATM. The machine printed a message that it could not complete the transaction. There was indeed a problem, muss, fuss, whatever. Of course, the bank was closed for the weekend and I would be out of town the following week. Oh well.
I found out later that the bank’s computer (running all by itself again, after a night out drinking) had tried to cash the check and found that my account couldn’t cover it because it was not letting me have the money I had deposited. Because of previous problems of the same type, I had signed up for “overdraft protection” by which the bank would cover overdrawn checks up to a certain limit by granting me loans. So basically, the bank loaned me the money the teller had mistakenly not allowed me to put in Patrick’s account so that I could put it into his account while it waited for the original check to clear. Then it charged me interest on the loan until I paid it off today. Are you with me?
Of course I complained to the supervisor (probably a vice president) that I should not have been charged interest for a loan that would not have been needed had the bank not barred me from putting the money in the right account in the first place. She agreed to credit the interest back to my account, so everything is hunky-dory. Except for the wasted time and the phone calls and the angst.
So what is the moral to this story? Well, there are many possible. First, let me make a sweeping comment that we all, as human people, need to strive to avoid getting too frothed up over events like this. Mistakes are made, after all, and often people don’t even know they’re making them. So chill out, grab yourself a cold one, put your feet up and watch some reruns of Law and Order.
Having said that, another moral is that, when institutions make mistakes, they tend to make them in their own favor. So don’t believe them when they tell you “no problem.” What they mean is no problem for them. If there is a problem, it’s yours.
Another moral would be something like the Boy Scout motto, “Be Prepared.” I went to the bank without having the proper account number, assuming the bank would find it for me. Not a bad assumption, but nonetheless wrong in this case.
Another moral is, stay the course, stick up for your rights, ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, speak softly and carry a big stick. I think the bank supervisor in this case knew that, while I spoke softly, I could break her in half.
Finally, there is no such thing as a “neighborhood” bank.
Dad • Stories • 04/02/04 • 8 comments
Comments
Kathleen • 04/06/04 • 1:09 AM:I bet you could break her in half, dad, and the cool thing is that it was something that was “known but unknown.” That’s a quote from Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. I like your morals of the story. I think the primary lesson that I would take from that is to bring the account number. I also like that you realized and shared with us that when they say “no problem,” they do mean, “no problem for us. If there’s a problem, it’s yours.” Good point. And speaking of all this, that reminds me that I have yet to do my taxes and haven’t balanced my checkbook in quite some time. Perhaps I’ll do that soon.
David • 04/06/04 • 12:19 PM:Yeah. Maybe this is not the place to admit this (is there a place?) - but I’ve never balanced my checkbook. Nope. Not me.
Dad • 04/06/04 • 2:14 PM:The key question is not whether or not you have ever balanced your checkbook, but whether or not your checkbook has “bounced” you.
Patrick • 04/13/04 • 7:10 PM:Dave, that points to your general prosperity (more than thriftiness, I expect): that you always have enough money to pay for the things you need and, usually, the things you want. We’re really very blessed as individuals, a family, a nation, aren’t we? Even I, with my growing family and relatively small paycheck, have never had real financial problems (thanks to government help, family help in times of need, and perhaps a tiny bit of self-control, but not much).
David • 04/19/04 • 1:38 PM:You’re right Pat. But when I hear/read about stats of people my age, and friends of mine, and the debt they’re in - I do realize that I spend more wisely than many. So rather than ‘thrifty’, you can call me frugAL. Just like my father before me. (And also like Mr. Terry - gourmet that is).
Patrick • 04/19/04 • 1:58 PM:I’d call you “not an idiot” if you’re comparing yourself to other people your age in this country who are in debt (unless it’s student loan debt or a motgage). But broaden your comparison beyond this country and you’ll slide very quickly to “prosperous by association,” meaning you were born in the right place at the right time. And then you worked hard, sure. But the system is sustaining your hard work and rewarding it. I’d call your indebted friends (and this is the grayed pot calling the kettles black, of course) “ridiculous” and “part of the problem.”
David • 04/19/04 • 7:55 PM:Simple reread my first sentence. I agree, I wasn’t saying that I wasn’t prosperous and lucky. No doubt. I’m happy to be “not an idiot” - I’d call YOU “not a tumor”.
Patrick • 05/04/04 • 9:41 AM:By the way, Dad, the theory that our computers stay up all night drinking (so eloquently proposed by Eduardo Galeano and alluded to by you here) fits under the umbrella term resistentialism (ri-zis-TEN-shul-iz-um):
(from an old Word a Day email).
Post a comment
Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
Please capitalize your name properly and use the same information each time you comment. We will not send you spam, and your email address will not be posted.