As of this moment, Bank of America is Dead to Me!!
Granted, this doesn’t mean I’ll be up and moving my accounts to another bank or anything, it just means I’ll be quite upset and let out a loud scoff at the mere mention of Bank of America going forward.
As I know all of my Faithful Readers are curious, knowledge-thirsty beings of light and goodness, I’ll let you in on the circumstances that have lead to this rant.
So I paid off all my bills the day they came in last month, as I usually do. I’d just gotten my state tax refund, so I was more than willing to pay off my MasterCard bill in full.
So I scribble out a check for $264.04 and stick that bad-boy in the mail on March 2nd. It is due on the 6th…so clearly that’s plenty of time for it to travel the 338 miles southwest to Wilmington, Delaware.
Well, last night I was opening this month’s bill and what do I find?! I’ve been kicked in the stones with a $39 late fee.
I’m thinking to myself, how can this be?! I paid it, in full even and sent it out on time…how the hell am I getting a $39 late fee?!
I flip through and see that the my payment was received and processed on the 7th. One day late.
$39 for one day?!
I didn’t make that much in a day when I making pizzas at Godfather’s…granted that was glorified slave-labor, but whatevs…the point is $39 for one f’n day?!?!
It was paid in full. It was in the mail four days before it was due. Apparently it rolled into their hands one day after it was due and now I’m one the hook for $39?!
It was at this point, that I got a wee-bit pissed off. Who the hell charges a dude $39 when he’s just paid his bill off…IN FULL…like he does every f’n month.
So this morning I called the Bank of America Customer Service hotline and talked to a lovely lady named Peggy.
Peggy was quite nice in that angry middle-aged wife with empty-nest syndrome sorta way.
Peggy loved the fact that I was nice and polite and referred to her by her name. She even went as far as to thank me for making her morning, which I found to be quite pleasant.
The thing is, Peggy didn’t do me a whole lot‘o’good.
She put me on hold for nearly fifteen minutes. Probably some of the longest minutes of my life, because as it turns out the folks at Bank of America don’t use real music when they put people on hold.
No, no…they use some sort of horrendous collaboration of elevator music and ‘70s porn music…which somehow managed to contain both static and popping noises, as if Peggy were just holding the phone up to an old record player.
After I finally got Peggy back on the line, she apologized that her supervisor wouldn’t allow her to waive the fee.
I asked if it could be reduced and continued to explain that absolute ridiculousness of charging a guy $39 for paying his bill in full and sending it out on-time.
Peggy whole-heartedly agreed but told me she couldn’t do anything, because her supervisor had vetoed it.
I then asked to speak with her supervisor…but Peggy told me that her supervisor was in the middle of an important conference and couldn’t be disturbed.
It was at this point that I wondered how Peggy had managed to interrupt in the “middle of an important conference” to ask about my late fee in the first place. Unless Peggy was drinking the BOA Kool-Aid and gave me the veto herself.
At that point I lost all trust in Peggy. She’d gone to the Dark Side and there was no hope for her soul. I left my number for the supervisor to call and I bid Peggy adieu.
Now there is nothing left to do but sit and wait for the supervisor to call.