Go, Granny!

          I found the piece below on a website called Quora. I wish I’d written it.

A 96-year-old woman wrote this letter to her bank, and it became so funny that the bank manager decided to share it in the New York Times.

To whom it may concern,

            I’m writing to thank you for bouncing my check when I tried to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, only a few nanoseconds passed between when he deposited the check and when the funds finally arrived in my account. I’m referring, of course, to the automatic monthly transfer from my savings account, which has been set up for the past 31 years.

            I want to give you credit for catching that short gap of time and also for charging me a $30 penalty for the trouble you caused.

            I’m actually thankful because this incident made me rethink my financial habits. I realized that while I always answer your phone calls and letters, when I try to contact you, I’m stuck with your impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded messages that don’t help at all. So from now on, I’ll deal only with a real person.

            From now on, my mortgage and loan payments will no longer be automatic. Instead, I will send a check to an employee at your bank who you will have to choose. No one else is allowed to open that envelope—it’s against the Postal Act.

            I’m attaching an Application Contact Status form that your chosen employee will need to fill out. It’s a long one, but it’s necessary because I want to know as much about them as your bank knows about me. They’ll also need to provide proof of their financial situation and medical history, signed by a Notary Public.

            Once this is all set up, I’ll give your employee a special PIN number for dealing with me. It will be 28 digits long—just like the number of button presses I have to do to check my account balance using your phone service. I’m just copying you, and they say imitation is the highest form of flattery.

            I’ll also be updating my voicemail. Here’s the menu you’ll need to follow if you call me:

Press 1: To make an appointment with me. Press 2: To ask about a missing payment. Press 3: To reach me in my living room if I’m there. Press 4: To reach me in my bedroom if I’m sleeping. Press 5: To reach me in the bathroom if I’m in there. Press 6: To reach my mobile if I’m not home. Press 7: To leave a message on my computer (password needed). Press 8: To go back to the main menu.

            If you need to make a complaint, I’ll put you on hold, but don’t worry—some pleasant music will play while you wait.

            Oh, and just like you do, I’m adding a $50 setup fee for all of this. Please credit my account after each payment.

Sincerely,

Your Humble Client

(Just remember, this was written by a 96-year-old woman!)