banks that suck

Yesterday, in our continuing efforts to break up with our bank, I went to clean out our safety deposit box and turn in our keys. I also had to sign our original contract and state that I had, in fact, done these things. Interestingly enough this act was not referred to as anything like “Termination of Contract” or “End of Rental Agreement.” It was termed “Surrender“, which I thought was ironically appropriate, given the fact that we’ve been locked in unending mortal combat with this institution for the past year.

So yes, we may have surrendered this particular battle. But seeing as how we have already opened up new accounts with a bank that does not cause its customers to feel as if they are being repeatedly and inappropriately violated in their most tender parts with sharp, pointy objects, we are most definitely winning the war.

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

electricity: $15.00

hating: FREE!

The opportunity to snark about my bank online so as to milk every possible drop of enjoyment out of breaking up with them: priceless