On offers for bank credit cards
I have been with the same bank for several years now. For some reason, they suddenly started sending me several letters per week asking me if I wanted to get a credit card with them. The fact is that I already have a credit card with them. I have more debt than many African nations. So, it is doubtful that I would want to have yet another credit card with this or any other bank.
After receiving about a dozen or so of these solicitations, I called the bank’s customer service number. I spent about ten minutes wandering through an endless morass of automated option before finally reaching a real person, Brian, a pleasantly bland customer service representative. I explained that I had begun receiving multiple offers for credit cards and just wanted to tell them that I already had one. They could save a little postage and stop sending me three offers per week. Brian, the pleasantly bland customer service representative, informed me that he could not stop the mailings. I would have to send a letter to a different location to get them stopped. He then proceeded to give me an address and a list of about ten items that I would need to put into a signed letter including address, previous addresses, birth date, account numbers, social security number and the names of the fathers of the last three girls I had gone out with in high school. (Just kidding about that last one, they only needed the last two fathers)
I was taken aback. I mentioned that I had not done anything to start this avalanche of offers. I had always carefully read and followed the arcane instructions on every opt-out form I had ever received from the bank. Why did I have to spend an hour writing and mailing a letter to stop these mailings? He said he was sorry, but that the process was handled by a different part of the organization and could not be handled by him. He also informed me that “due to the bank’s policy” I would be unable to resolve this by phone. I suppressed the urge to get into a heated discussion with Brian, the pleasantly bland customer service representative, concerning the bank’s definition of the term “customer service” in their policy statement. Instead, I asked him why I could not handle it over the phone. Was that other "part of the organization" not allowed to use the phone? Were they being punished for running up the long distance bill or having a party while the parents were out of town? Was the technology being withheld from them for fear of disrupting their delicate cultural balance?
My sarcasm went unappreciated by Brian, the pleasantly bland customer service representative.
I still receive that near constant barrage of solicitations. Now, however, I send back the business reply envelopes filled with the dozens of fliers and ads that come to me in my phone bill. Somebody needs to help those poor devils get a phone line.
After receiving about a dozen or so of these solicitations, I called the bank’s customer service number. I spent about ten minutes wandering through an endless morass of automated option before finally reaching a real person, Brian, a pleasantly bland customer service representative. I explained that I had begun receiving multiple offers for credit cards and just wanted to tell them that I already had one. They could save a little postage and stop sending me three offers per week. Brian, the pleasantly bland customer service representative, informed me that he could not stop the mailings. I would have to send a letter to a different location to get them stopped. He then proceeded to give me an address and a list of about ten items that I would need to put into a signed letter including address, previous addresses, birth date, account numbers, social security number and the names of the fathers of the last three girls I had gone out with in high school. (Just kidding about that last one, they only needed the last two fathers)
I was taken aback. I mentioned that I had not done anything to start this avalanche of offers. I had always carefully read and followed the arcane instructions on every opt-out form I had ever received from the bank. Why did I have to spend an hour writing and mailing a letter to stop these mailings? He said he was sorry, but that the process was handled by a different part of the organization and could not be handled by him. He also informed me that “due to the bank’s policy” I would be unable to resolve this by phone. I suppressed the urge to get into a heated discussion with Brian, the pleasantly bland customer service representative, concerning the bank’s definition of the term “customer service” in their policy statement. Instead, I asked him why I could not handle it over the phone. Was that other "part of the organization" not allowed to use the phone? Were they being punished for running up the long distance bill or having a party while the parents were out of town? Was the technology being withheld from them for fear of disrupting their delicate cultural balance?
My sarcasm went unappreciated by Brian, the pleasantly bland customer service representative.
I still receive that near constant barrage of solicitations. Now, however, I send back the business reply envelopes filled with the dozens of fliers and ads that come to me in my phone bill. Somebody needs to help those poor devils get a phone line.
1 Comments:
Man, this story is hilarious. Too bad you seem to be not writing anymore.
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