Monday, 15th October

Monday, 15th October

Keyword for the Day: I do not belieeeeve it!

A notice above the telephone I was directed to in the bank this morning – to save me time waiting in a queue!

It was throwing it down with rain this morning when I took Tyler to school, so I turned up at the bank just after nine looking a bit like the proverbial unfortunate rat.

Once I had produced my passport (see Friday’s diary) I sat and waited for a Personal Banker to sort out the caution on my card.  She rang through to the correct department and then after five minutes of hanging on, inspecting her fingernails and chatting to me about her teenage daughter, she got a bit fed up with waiting, and so batted me over to the customer phone on the other side of the bank.  She obviously knew the score.  I was on this blinkin’ phone for almost an hour! The notice was a joke.  For a start I was put through to Bangalore, and goodness knows what the security questions were.  I just assumed ‘mudda midden nim’ was my mother’s maiden name, and my ‘ditto bud’ was my date of birth. I was then put through to another department where I was asked more security questions which were very confusing as I couldn’t for the life of me think how old I will be next birthday, then I was put on hold for twenty minutes, listening to the most annoying music I have ever heard.  Whilst all this was going on I had a very nice (and interesting) chat to an ex-Council colleague who managed to escape a few months ago retired recently, who was also waiting for an inordinate amount of time to see someone.They ought to serve coffee in there – they would make a very healthy profit to pay to their Chief Executive in bonus.

Then a very nice man came on the phone – he sounded very English for Bangalore – and explained why the mistake had been made on my new debit card. Then – voila – the caution was lifted and I could spend my own money, after a weekend of being skint!

It occurred to me, though, after I finally arrived at work at 10.20, that the people in Bangalore must get very frustrated with people like me saying ‘pardon’ and ‘can you repeat that’ all the time.  Goodness knows how they get on with people in GB who are Eastern Europeans. I bet the phone calls go on all day!

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