I've been dealing with a lot of banks, lately. Too many, in fact.
I'm currently in the process of switching banks from Coast Capital to TD, and then a third, RBC, is handling our upcoming mortgage. So, that's three banks with the ability to piss me off at once. And as everyone knows, banks have a way of pissing people off.
Also, and perhaps this is the most important point, anybody who knows me is well aware that it does not take much to get on my last nerve (See previous post, titled 'The Complaint Department, for further proof).
Anyways, the reason I'm leaving Coast – my main bank since I was eight or nine years old – is because they kept screwing me around and giving me the round-around when I tried to get the loan for my truck a year and a half ago. But secondly – and most importantly – they really jerked us around with the mortgage we almost had with them. I may have written about this before – it's probable, actually – but here's the Cole's notes of it:
They approved our mortgage without problems about six weeks before the closing date of the deal. Then, four days before the deal was set to close, they said, "Oh, sorry, we finally got around to actually checking out the details, and we can't do it (for one pretty lame reason, but a reason nonetheless). I was furious not because they rejected it – there's lots of banks out there, after all – but because they waited 'til the last second and left us scrambling like idiots.
So today, as I attempt to move my accounts, I went to Coast Capital – albeit a different branch than the one I'm mad at – to get some void cheques/banking info, which are necessary to make the transfer.
The teller asked me, out of curiosity more than anything else, why I needed the forms. I said it was because I was closing all my accounts.
"Oh, do you mind if I ask why?" she asked.
Oh boy, this was the moment I was waiting for. The chance for me to tell the bank – loudly – just how badly they had fucked me around, and that they could all go to hell. I didn't even care that it was a different branch, I was gonna let 'er rip.
I explained my reasons (politely, I may add. I was working up to the anger). And then, the real piss-off: the overly-polite teller agreed with me.
"I don't have much dealings with the mortgage end of things, but you're right – they should've told you way sooner than that. I don't blame you for being upset," she said.
"No! You're supposed to disagree! I need ammo here! I want a fight!!!!" my angry brain screamed.
But I got nothing but pleasantries – a "sorry to see you leave" and a "have a nice day." Talk about taking the wind from my sails.
Anyways, with that out of the way – and more bottled-up rage than ever – I focused my attention on RBC. We need to finalize the mortgage and sign papers in a week or so, and my mortgage specialist – who had already previously disappeared for three months due to some type of medical leave – was, again, nowhere to be found.
I emailed. I called and left a message on her cell. I emailed again - this time a little more tersely, explaining that I couldn't wait forever, and that her lack of a response was unnerving, to say the least. Then I called again. And then one more time for good measure.
But still nothing. To quote noted philosopher Homer Simpson: "Urge to kill rising."
Finally, exasperated, I called the branch itself and complained. The woman on the phone apologized and said she'd get right on it. She said not to worry about it – she'd do all the legwork, get me an appointment and call me back when I had one.
Not even 10 minutes later, I had an email from the formerly MIA mortgage woman. (What a coincidence.)
Again, I was ready to be angry. I opened the email.
"Hi there, sorry for the delay in getting back to you...." it read.
Damn right you should be sorry!
"... but I just found out that my dad has been diagnosed with a very serious form of cancer, so I had to take a few days off in the last week."
God dammit. So much for being angry. I mean, I was still within my rights to wonder where the hell she'd been, but how can you possibly stay pissed off when that's the reason given?
Now, the worst part – aside from the fact that some poor guy out there has a serious medical issue to deal with – is that I've still got all this pent-up anger and nowhere to unleash it.
Thankfully, we've got the first two games of our fall slo-pitch season tonight. The umpire at diamond 4 is probably gonna get an earful.
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