Crunch-n-Munch-Blow-Up1…we are SO done!!

Welcome to Wednesday, hereafter known as Snark Day. For those that don’t understand the beginning of this, or the title for that matter, let me tell you a story. Actually, this blog, much like the new and improved Crunch ‘n Munch, is going to have popcorn, peanuts and caramel.

Popcorn: Last year at Necon, while waiting in line to get our Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, Alethea and I were scanning the tabloids and saw that the stars of Twilight had broken up. No, we didn’t care, but it became great fodder for a conversation where the teenagers should break up via Twitter. Thus the in-joke of “@kristen: we are so done” was born. Of course, the kernels of popcorn on the bottom of the container should include that we then fell in love with our coffee barista and her name was Kristen and we had a little guilt because she might have heard us saying that loudly. But just a little. And then we found out @kristen is a real person and seems kinda sweet and we had a little guilt again. But just a little. So yes, we still use this!

Now why do I bring that up? Because it’s a great story and because it’s how I felt about my bank yesterday when I found out they had twitter. Welcome to the peanut gallery, er, peanut section of our Crunch ‘n Munch.

Soooo… my bank, we’ll call it Em&Fee and protect my butt like my lawyer suggested I do, is NOT full of the awesome. It is full of the stupid. I paid my bills (because I’m good like that) and saw that one marked for another date decided to come through. Now this particular week was tight, but I paid everything knowing that I would have just enough to do it and have a safety net in the account that I use for the online bill paying. I saw the odd bill go through online before the bank was even open, RAN to the bank and stalked their locked doorway, and then burst through and put extra money in so that everything would be covered and beautiful. I asked the teller and she said the account was fine and that I did the right thing and all was good. I went to work and life was back where it was supposed to be.

And then TWO DAYS LATER they charged me $190 in bounced check fees for checks they not only paid, but paid from a balance that existed! Excuse me?

So I called Wonder Woman, the lovely bank manager that hasn’t had sex in 17 years and doesn’t even remember how to spell orgasm, and asked her “what the hell they thought they were doing?” She tried to calmly tell me the cable bill caused a bounce. I told her that the money was there and that I had a screen shot of said bill coming through and that there was a balance after everything cleared (and I did, it was open on my laptop and ready to be printed and shoved down her throat). I then asked her, with my out-of-practice-but-still-effective Wench voice, to explain to me “exactly why they thought they should charge people for bouncing when nothing bounced.” She tried to tell me that things bounced because of the bounce charge.

I waited for her to realize what she had said.

She didn’t catch it. Apparently, if you go for too long without an orgasm your brain just shuts off and they give you a management position. Long story short, I threatened to call the D.A. for unlawful charges, the BBB, ruin her job, destroy her marriage and I may have accidentally threatened her children. But she still claimed they would not return the charges. “Fine, I’m calling the D.A.” Seems if you say something enough times, it gets through the vaginal cobwebs of her brain and she decided to “look into it and call me back”. Whatever.

Meanwhile, I went to the credit union I’ve been meaning to switch to and opened a new account. I’m done with that bank. @Em&Fee: we are so done! I met Connie, giggled, laughed, got both a background check and a terrorist-list check (which we also giggled about, because really? Terrorists use their real information to open accounts? Yes, Connie said, amazingly, they do). I got a shiny new debit card ordered and $10 just for being pretty. And as I was leaving Awesome Union, where they offer you not one pen but a box of pens, Em&Fee called me back.

Wonder Women declared that it was indeed a bank error and they would be refunding the money. (Damn skippy, you are!!) And when I said “Fine. Thank you. I’m closing the account as soon as my direct deposits are confirmed at my new bank, because you’re full of the stupid” she began to tell me about exciting new offers that were coming up…

Welcome to the caramel portion of the box. The sticky residue that won’t go away. The boyfriend you dumped that just doesn’t get it. “We’re done, honey. Done. We broke up. You need to get your toothbrush and coffee cup and get the hell out of my house.”

And she told me about a new option for “our customers” that would be coming in the mail and that I needed to return it by August so that they would know which way I wanted my debit card to be charged from now on.

Helllooooo… McFly?!! I split the spice cabinet, I went through the photos, I took that necklace your mother gave me, and I filed the papers. I get full custody, you’re paying alimony, and we have a court date next Tuesday for Christ’s sake. We’re done!

She didn’t get it. I’m pretty sure she still doesn’t get it. Because as I’m writing this, I got an email from Em&Fee telling me that I can now do mobile text banking. I think I’ll sign their Twitter account up for midget porn…

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