BanksYour Ginger Fuhrer froths, "I hate my bank. Not because of debt or anything but because I hate being sold to - possibly pathologically so - and everytime I speak to them they try and sell me services. Gold cards, isas, insurance, you know the crap. It drives me insane. I ALREADY BANK WITH YOU. STOP IT. YOU MAKE ME FRIGHTED TO DO MY NORMAL BANKING. I'm angry even thinking about them."
So, tell us your banking stories of woe.
No doubt at least one of you has shagged in the vault, shat on a counter or thrown up in a cash machine. Or something
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chthonic, Thu 16 Jul 2009, 13:15)
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18 years agoI worked in a Home Counties bank branch. When we were running short of, say, £10 notes, we'd phone up a branch of a different bank at the other end of the High Street. Then the Head Cashier and I (being the only two sizeable males out of 40-odd staff) would WALK 400 YARDS DOWN THE HIGH STREET WITH 5 GRAND IN £20 NOTES in each inside jacket pocket (£10k each), swap them at the other bank for £10 notes, and walk back again.
With a remote "panic button" that had a range of 100 yards, tops.
(, Sun 19 Jul 2009, 2:06, Reply)
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