bad day...

Man, right now I’m sitting in my car outside my gym waiting for the 10am free parking to start. I just went to the bank and closed my account. I’m so pissed off at this very moment. I’ve had the same bank account for my entire adult life and though it’s been kind of a pain in the dick watching the bank get bought and sold and constantly having to get new cards and all that, I’ve never really had much of a problem with them until this week.
Yesterday I was in a bar and I went to get a twenty out of the ATM only to be told that I had insufficient funds. Now, that seemed crazy to me, as I was pretty sure that I had more than 20 bucks in my account. Anyway, I went home and checked my balance online and what do you know? My bank (Chase) charged me almost two grand in fees to print my fucking account records out; records I needed because the IRS requested them. TWO GRAND!!!! Fuck, man, I’m not made of money (to borrow a grandfatherly expression). This was, and remains, a huge, gigantic kick in the dick.

I mean, what the fuck is that? They printed out paper with records that I actually employed them to keep track of, probably a hundred sheets of it and it costs that much? Jesus, that’s like when the government buys hammers for six grand or when you get charged nine hundred bucks for a wimpy, half hearted handjob in the champagne room. I don’t know. It’s straight up highway robbery screwjob city and I’m so pissed I could fucking eat glass. Or cry. Or maybe both.

I went into my branch and I explained to them that I was closing my account and the banker said, “okay” and closed me out. No questions about my satisfaction or lack thereof, no attempts to try to get me (a customer for over fifteen years) to stay on. No offers to look into seeing what they could do or anything like that. I told them I was furious about the fees and the response was, in essence, “yeah, that really sucks.”

There are few things on this earth more absolutely enraging than being rendered impotent by gigantic faceless monolithic entities. These bankers, they seemed nice enough, but the bank has it set up so there’s just no way that they can do anything to help you. It’s the same reason that you can’t get someone on the phone and when you finally do it’s some guy in Bangalore that doesn’t give two shits about your bank fees or your bounced checks or whatever. They have no interest in helping you. Banking customers are nothing but a pain in the ass. We give banks money and they weasel it from us slowly (or in my case, quickly). That’s the thing. Did you ever consider that if all banks did was hold your money and give you interest, they’d be a money losing endeavor? I mean, yeah, there’s all that low risk investing that they do and they’re moving big piles of money around into different international currencies and all that, but don’t be naïve. They’re out there to take your money. Fuck. If I just kept my money in my mattress along side my rifle I wouldn’t have any of these problems, man. Again, fuck!

I don’t really know what to do. I guess there’s nothing TO do. I ordered the shit (because I had to) they charged me five bucks a page (because that’s their policy and they can) and now the money is gone, I’m fucked and my wife is pissed at me because I pissed away a bunch of money for, quite literally, nothing.

Yeah, the whole fucking thing stinks to high heaven. I hate Chase quite a bit right now, and I’m not too happy with the IRS either, honestly. But, well, things are looking up at least, because you know what I get to do next? I get to take my baby to the clinic to get her some vaccines! This is seriously the best day of my life, folks! God damn it.

Ugh.