This is one hell of a lady.
TRUE STORY
An actual letter that was sent to a bank by a 96 year old woman. The
bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the New
York Times.
Dear Sir:
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I
endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three
nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the
arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I refer, of
course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire income, an
arrangement which,I admit, has been in place for only 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, l 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 repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer
be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, 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 Notary Public, 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 a 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 the 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. Password will be communicated at a later date to the
Authorized Contact.
8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
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 96 year old woman. 'Atta Girl