Bank Letter

[kikila]

A 98 year old woman in the UK wrote this to her bank. The bank manager

thought it amusing enough to have it published in the Times

Dear Sir,

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my cheque with which I

endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three

nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the cheque and the

arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I refer, of

course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my Pension, an arrangement,

which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty 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 payments will therefore and hereafter no longer be

automatic, but will arrive at your bank by cheque, addressed personally

and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.

Be aware that it is an offence 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

Solicitor, 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 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 modelled 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. A password will be communicated to you at a later date to

the Authorised Contact)

8 To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through to 8.

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 98 year old woman; DOESNT SHE MAKE YOU

PROUD!)

[Guest MRSIWANNAJEWY]

A 98 year old woman in the UK wrote this to her bank. The bank manager

thought it amusing enough to have it published in the Times

Dear Sir,

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my cheque with which I

endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three

nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the cheque and the

arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I refer, of

course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my Pension, an arrangement,

which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty 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 payments will therefore and hereafter no longer be

automatic, but will arrive at your bank by cheque, addressed personally

and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.

Be aware that it is an offence 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

Solicitor, 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 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 modelled 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. A password will be communicated to you at a later date to

the Authorised Contact)

8 To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through to 8.

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 98 year old woman; DOESNT SHE MAKE YOU

PROUD!)

That's hilarious

[double pluggers]

That is a great letter.

[hobbitt]

GO GRAN !

[robeebee]

very clever

[Andy Loops]

Absolute GOLD!!! GO GRANNY!!