And Then I Banked On It….

Remember my little nest of vipers wanted to stay with the horsy bank after that bank split-up thingy? No? Got to agree it wasn't all that memorable. Anyhoo, the up-shot was we'd get a couple of letters, one of which would containing a telephone number to, believe it or not, call to do the necessary. 

True to official form, nothing happened so what to do. Throw plan 'B' into action is what we done did.

Step one; down to horsy bank and open new accounts for her. That worked surprisingly well with the promise of the relevant card arriving by weeks end. {Now received, signed and ready to be lost at her earliest convenience.}
Step two; down to the other bank to close accounts and move money.

I started to explain to the teller what we wanted to do but early in my explanation she interrupted and, with that smirk that suggested she was  far more au fait with the intricacies of this request than us, explained the complexities that could be encountered unless their own experts handled the matter for us. At this point I interrupted her, and with a smirk that suggested I was ready for this and considered myself to be on a winner, explained that, having given their experts a chance, we'd gone ahead and, all on our own and by ourselves, done all the groundwork and thus new accounts where already in place, we'd confirmed the two banks were still technologically linked so the remaining process should be simplicity itself. 

She rapidly regrouped and informed us that the requested action couldn't be done from there.
"That's strange." Said I with my bestest worried facial expression. "I tried the butchers next door, the bakers over the road and, in the absence of a candlestick maker, the nearby dog grooming parlour, and they all informed me they couldn't do what we required and were all of the opinion that my best bet was the bank. This bank."

Her expression now suggested someone who wished they'd paid more attention to that part of the bank-workers course that dealt with the action to be taken when a nutter makes it to your tellers window.
"Errrrr, I mean I can't do it from this terminal. You'll need to see our Account Closing Manager."
"Got ya'! Please point us in the general direction of the Account Closing persons office and the account closing we'll then be doing."
"Can't do that I'm afraid." She smiled, indicating she wasn't even the slightest little bit afraid. "You'll need to make an appointment and the next slot I've got is for two."
"Perfect! Any better and I couldn't stand it as there are, indeed, exactly two of us!"
"What?!? I'm talking time. Two o'clock."
"Oh boy, oh boy!! That's a tad early is it not? But never mind, we'll be here. Do we ring a bell or something? Or will the door be open, the alarm off and we just walk in and shout, 'Hellooo'?"

Two things then quickly happened to the counter lady. Her hand started to move down towards the alarm button and I was conscious of a whooshing sound that seemed to emanate from a point about three feet above her head. 

Her demeanour changed once again as her thought process finally kicked in. "That's very droll. That's two o'clock this afternoon so you'll have a bit of a wait."
Checking my watch I exclaimed, "Whoa!! fourteen hundred hours!"
With yet another dramatic change of expression she jumped in with, "What? No, no you don't have to wait fourteen hundred hours! That'd be really silly. You've only two hours to wait. It's already twelve o'clo………. Oh." And, just audible above the whooshing noises, "Damn!"

The 'Oh' and 'Damn' were sure indications that she was slowly catching on, too late, to this verbal rubbish.

The rest of the day passed boringly normally. Other than, "Are there any direct debits associated with these accounts?"
"You mean like so she can help pay household bills an' stuff like that? You are kidding, right?"

Quote;  Paula Poundstone.

"I don't have a bank account because I don't know my mother's maiden name."