I'm pretty fuckin sick of the extortionate penalty fees enforced by banks. If one misses a credit card payment and becomes even a dollar overdrawn, one is looking at not much change from 100 bucks.
Fu-uck me...!
So I told them. As above - that I'd had enough and was taking steps (can almost hear them shakin' in their boots, right? Go right ahead - underestimate away - I have the lions portion in agreement).
It isn't in fact, unheard of for a bank to repay such extortionate charges, and these fees are clearly unreflective of the amount of effort required by a automatic machine to issue.
So I shot my first salvo.
They returned with something that reading between the lines read awful like fuck you, but in a sickeningly formal manner. And in the best tradition, they're making me wait until they deem me important enough to deserve their oh so important time.
Fine. I've all the time in the world. The sloth of administration, if manipulated to one's own ends, can be rather helpful.
I might say at some point: "alright, look, we all know you couldn't give a fuck for anything or one but your bottom line so I'll tell you what - just stop slamming me. I'll not tell anyone. It'll be our little secret.
If I get everyone involved in an organized effort (because let's face it wanker, oops, sorry, banker, it could give you quite a headache. I mean, really, what you're doing is robbery plain and simple, with a healthy dose of maniacal zeal as you 'put the boot in' when your victim, oops sorry again, customer, is already down and all but out. Y'fuckers!!!")
But my initial reaction upon reading the missive was:
Bollocks! What a load of wank! (I haven't yet decided whether or not I'll actually employ this response - it may well be satisfying but probably ultimately damaging to my cause. I'll reserve the right...).
Anyway, there y'go. It has begun...
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