In which Derek blows a gasket.

Thank you, Bank of America, for convincing me to close my account and never do business with you again.  Thank you for taking nickel-and-diming to a whole new dimension.  Thank you for squeezing my beleaguered checkbook and proving to all those naysayers that you can get blood from a stone -- that, in fact, you do it all the time.

Particularly in the middle of the worst recession of my lifetime, after months of unemployment.

No really -- thank you. 

Frankly, I'm still quivering in awe of how you did it.

Imagine my surprise when I received your little note informing me that my account had been assessed overdraft fees.  Ah, but not just one overdraft fee.  Not two.  Not three or even four, but seven!  SEVEN.  In one day!  Not even that, really.  In the span of an afternoon -- a couple of hours.  Seven $35 overdraft charges -- yep, that's $245 -- for assuming, mistakenly, that my deposit check had cleared and making, foolishly, a couple of minor purchases (coffee, sandwich, a toothbrush...).  Tidy piece of work, that.

I spent $25 and you stole ten times that from my account.  It's brilliant.  To think, had I just taken out cash once that day for spending money, rather than use my debit card a few times, you would have only charged me once for that withdrawal.

I could have taken out twice what I actually spent and you'd have only. Charged me. Once. 

But who takes out cash any more?  You're really onto something here.  This way, you could slap me with a $35 fee when I bought that $3 latte, and another $35 fee for that ill-advised stop at CVS, and another for lunch, and another, and another... 

You could bend over my unsuspecting checking account and give it a solid proper rogering -- and then make me feel like it was my fault.  Battered Customer Syndrome.  Very savvy of you.  Very with the times.

I appreciate that I should have double-checked to see that the deposit had posted to my account.  Personal responsibility.  Shouldn't have assumed.  I get that.  I was out of town, away from my computer, but that's not an excuse.  I should have made sure.

What I don't appreciate is that my debit card continued to work, regardless of whether or not I had any money, so that I could continue to compound a mistake I didn't know I was making, to your complete and unadulterated profit. 

It was very kind of your nameless branch manager to endure my frustrated speech about How Customers Ought To Be Treated By Their Banks.  So very, very kind of her to "refund," as a "courtesy," a generous 1/3 of the money you gleefully pinched from my account.

But -- and I mean this in the nicest way possible -- go fuck yourself, you lousy, bottom-feeding, highway robbing, fat-kidneyed piece of shit. 

Citizens Bank, here I come.

Comments

[Maria T.]

Thumbs down, Bank of America. We loved Citizens!

[theotherlion]

That EXACT same thing happened to me. And that's what I don't get. WHY DID MY CARD WORK? And I DID check my balance online, and there WAS money. But the timing of it was all weird and I couldn't prove anything because according to THEIR computers, I was in the wrong. $310 in the wrong. For, like you, making $2, $5, and and $6 purchases. I hate banks I hate them I hate them I hate them. I sat at the bank and wept. I got back about $100.

[Derek]

Ugh. I'm sorry. It just ain't right.

Not that it's much more than a mildly cathartic exercise, but I'd name and shame them on your blog. And then take your business somewhere else.

Actually, you should post your righteous fury on YouTube, like this lady:

http://money.cnn.com/2009/09/29/news/companies/youtube_bank_of_america/?postversion=2009092914

[sara]

I quit BOA about 10 years ago when they suddenly began to think that a 17 year old shouldn't have an IRA and magically decided to forget to send me monthly statements. And being a 17 year old, it took me three or four months to realize that that I hadn't been receiving statements.

Way to be a douche BOA.