Tomorrow we are going to break up with our bank. And I can’t wait!
Earlier this year I wrote about how I moved some of our accounts over to a new financial institution. Because, as I said, “I decided that I was tired of paying the old bank every month just for the privilege of keeping my money there.” More and more our monthly statements were starting to look like this:
Monthly Service Fees:
Driving past our building on the way to the grocery store: $3.00
Breathing air: $5.00
I have been ready to leave them for a while now, but my husband was not quite ready to pull the plug on this banking relationship. (“I’ve been with them longer than I’ve been with you.”) Until we received a letter from our bank informing us that it was time to pay the annual rental fee for our safety deposit box. It was the same old stuff, until we got to the part explaining that, seeing as how this fee was no longer going to be automatically paid to the bank (since the account that used to pay it has since been closed), it was now going to cost us an extra $25 to rent this box because we were going to be sending the payment in manually.
I can only imagine that this new fee breaks down something like this:
Having to take time out from sucking away all our clients’ money by opening an envelope: $2.00
Possibility of getting a paper cut from opening said envelope: $2.00
Expensive bottled water transported directly from clear mountain springs on the back of tiny, beribboned poodles in order to replace the saliva lost when we said, “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, we figured out how to get extra money out of you even though you’re no longer sending us payments automatically! Neener, neener, pppffbbtt!”
Manicure for poodles: $1.00
I really, really REALLY hate this bank! (Also? Not that fond of poodles.) And we need to get out now while we can, because I know it’s only a matter of time before our bank statements start to look like this:
Medicine needed to relieve headache brought on by excessive meditation on the question, “How can we suck away even more of our customers’ money?”: $10.00
Expensive, hand-woven towels and personal manservants needed to delicately mop the sweat off of our furrowed brows: $250.00
Bonbons needed to stimulate the rush of endorphins that will cause us to have the brilliant revelation that actually, our clients should just be automatically turning over every single cent they ever make to us, and hey, why aren’t they doing that already?!: $1,000.00
Penalty for failure to automatically sign over to bank all paychecks and personal assets: $100 katrillion dollars, + 1 kidney + firstborn child.
Needless to say, I am VERY excited about tomorrow. Because,
monthly payment to host website: $19.95
The opportunity to snark about my bank online so as to milk every possible drop of enjoyment out of breaking up with them: priceless
Pauly D says
Good for you, re: breaking up with your bank. No matter how much they cry and no matter how much it affects you emotionally, you stay strong JENNY RYAN!
I’m close to breaking up with my bank because every time I go to a non-Wells Fargo ATM they charge me $2 and then the bank whose ATM I used charges me $2 bucks. It’s highway robbery, I tell you.
But I do like the ATM card with the stagecoach on it.
Good for you! Those fees are getting out of hand. Tho’ a banker will probably read your post and think, “Eureka! Those are great ideas for new revenue streams!”
Oh, and I totally agree…poodles = bleh. No offense to the Society for National Admiration of Poodles (SNAP) members.
Good. Breaking up may be hard to do (just a small hassle changing things over, maybe), but banks need to wake up and face the cold hard facts of life–gouging is gonna lose ’em business.
What a delight when we were in the bank (yeh, we can walk downtown to our bank–from anywhere in this teeny lil hub of America’s Third World County) while downtown shopping a few weeks back. The teller asked if we would like to change our checking account over to no fees + interest paid on balance (as if a savings account). Well, yeh. No minimum balances, no fees, we earn interest. Granted, the fees we were paying on our chacking account were miniscule–a grand total of $3.50 a month–but no fees plus interest beats that.
Nice of the teller to point it out (and no, she got no Brownie points for doing it. I asked the manager, who’s on first name basis with most bank customers, no matter how small their accounts.
A nice aspect of banking close to home in a small town.
well, I have to do a little sticking up for the bank here, Safe Deposit Boxes are national treasures or at least valued like they are, so they want to give them to customers who are staying around. You are breaking away from them, very very good for you
Oh im so admiring of you. I want to break up with our bank so bad, and so does my husband but we cant make ourselves do it. We talk about it all the time. But we both know we dont have the guts to do it….yay Jenny Ryan!
Mad Kane says
Boy can I relate!
Colleen Gleason says
Oooh! Have you read all the Carole Nelson Douglas’s Irene Adlers? I love that series. I have Chapel Noir (love the covers) and it’s been bugging me to read it.
I also enjoyed The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, but it was a little squicky with the love story between Holmes and the much-younger girl whose name I can’t remember.
And…on to the topic at hand: we broke up with our bank about five years ago. Best thing we ever did, although it was a PITA.
So good luck!
In the immortal words of Bartles and James, “Thank you for your support.” 🙂