Death to Wells Fargo!

I have reached my breaking point with Wells Fargo Bank. The result is frustration.

I just had it out with an unfortunate excuse for a customer service person named Kathy by way of telephone. She had a quite annoying nasally Minnesota accent. You know the kind I’m referring to – the kind that screams inbred, fundamentalist Christian, and overall do-gooder. I certainly feel as if she is a sloppy oinker of the highest order. She talked down to me as if I was a child. I wanted to jump through the phone and gouge her eyes out with a rusty nail file. Only if it was that easy. Sigh.

The idiot tellers at the branch closest to my office royally fucked up any normalcy to my accounts many months ago when they introduced a “monthly checking to savings transfers” WITHOUT my consent. I raised a fit when it completed it’s first transaction, but I was told that if the bank were to reverse it I would then be paying a monthly fee in my savings account. I became even more enraged because I’ve held the account since the mid 1990’s without ever having to pay a monthly fee for my savings account. My bitchfest led to nothing. I was told it was all my fault.

Even more backtracking… this is the same branch that has deposited MY funds into checking accounts that were NOT mine – even when the deposit slip had MY correct checking account number. They are total fucktards at this location. If given the opportunity, and a way to secure my innocence, I would slash the tires on each of the branch employees’ Honda Accords every Friday for 8 months. 8 months of torturous transfers = 8 months of slashed tires. A fair trade if you ask me.

Anyway, the money in question that I phoned in about had transferred sometime during the twilight hours while I was laying asleep in bed. I checked all day yesterday to make sure the transfer hadn’t gone through. And it hadn’t. I thought I was safe as the past three times it was supposed to transfer on a Sunday or Holiday, it hadn’t. Well too bad for me as it showed this morning as transferring yesterday the 16th.

My main problem to all of this mumbo jumbo was the transfer caused an overdraft fee of 34 dollars that was applied to my checking account. The money transferred out of my account caused my check card purchase from Sunday evening to negative the balance. So essentially the 19.33 purchase had now cost me 53.33. Lovely.

Of course I was not going to take this lying down. Living with Timofy for 6 plus years of my life had definitely taught me something – always stand up for yourself, and be a bitch when necessary. Of course I did both. Add the sickness on top of all of that… it’s not such a pretty picture.

The first person I spoke to gave me the run around. Which is typical. The first customer service person you run into will more than likely try to get you to give up. I wasn’t in the mood to give up so easily. He kept stressing to me that he could not reverse the overdraft fee. I knew he couldn’t but I gave it a good try, and I made him work for his $8.75 an hour. He continued to place me on hold over and over again. This only added more fuel to the fire as I know these type of malicious tricks during my old customer service days. These people hope you will hang up and never call back. Unbeknownst to him, I was aching to speak to his supervisor. And when I asked, he kindly obliged.

He transferred me to this poor excuse for a woman named Kathy who from the get-go I could tell was going to be an overwhelming pain in my ass. Her voice was very managerial “I’m better than you”. Her choice of words were a distinct factor on how my attitude was shaping up – which was quite firey by then. She kept telling me that it was my choice to have this done to my account. And to stop referencing past experiences with this current one. I had to let her know that when it comes to proving a point, I’m going to prove my point any way possible.

This call was reaching the 45 minute mark and I had just about had enough. Well not really, I had to get back to my duties. I asked her for her full name. She was extremely hesitant. But on the fifth time asking politely she caved in and even spelled it out for me. What a cooze. The reason behind getting her full name was so I could write a letter to Wells Fargo in a few days documenting my awful experience with this woman.

As she spoke her last words about how I should have signed up for overdraft protection I hung up on the bitch. I figured it would be better for me to end it there. This would give me the chance to call back later in the afternoon and get a different batch of customer service employees to terrorize. I kept telling myself that I am not going to give up without a fight. And I’m not. I’m sick and tired of the bullshit that Wells Fargo has shoveled my way. At least if I don’t get this damn overdraft fee reimbursed, I will have given the dimwitted Wells Fargo customer service employees one hell of a ride.