Welcome to the Saturday post wherein Mr. Robin rants and carries on about not very much. I’m launching into this today because I know there are people who follow this blog who, like me, have been longtime members of Navy Federal Credit Union (NFCU). In fact, at one time, there was an NFCU board member who followed this blog, so if he’s still around maybe the message will get through.
For the rest of you, this is a hard look at how we’re all at the mercy of the whims of whatever banking and/or credit unioning entities we choose to associate. Let me start by saying that my membership with NFCU goes back to 1984. They used to serve their membership well, well at least until they started getting bigger and bigger and became a huge player in the banking game. I’ll also tell you that they’ve been pretty good to me over the years, especially this past summer when someone at the local hospital here stole our account information and drained our checking account and then some (they tapped the overdraft). NFCU replaced our funds and went after whomever stole the loot. Thursday, I attempted an eDeposit through their iPhone app. It’s something I’ve hundreds of times over the years, generally without a problem. Occasionally, I’d get an email from them telling me that the image of the check was out of focus or something, so I’d resubmit and it would go through. No problem. Friday morning, I opened my email to discover a message from NFCU telling me that my deposit had been rejected, but it wouldn’t say why. Told me I needed to call the credit union, which I did. I don’t know about other banks, but NFCU’s phone menu requires a lot of patience to get through…something I’m not known for having. I had to enter my account number, my access number, and then my phone PIN. I finally got through to a human, but only after listening to a multitude of options (because after all they may have changed). I explained what happened and asked that the person tell me why the deposit was rejected. I heard her sigh and then tell me that I would have to give her my secret code word to find that out. Secret code word? I began to think I was on some sort of weird Groucho Marx game show. I told her that I didn’t know a secret code word and then reminded her that I just needed to know why they rejected the deposit, so I could fix it. Another sigh. She then informed that because I was “unable” to provide my secret code word, I would have to answer a series of questions if I wanted an answer. A series of questions? Really? I get the need for online security, but this is ridiculous. It’s not like I was trying to transfer money to an overseas account in Russia or someplace. I hung up. I even logged on to my online account to leave a message asking that someone please tell me why they rejected the deposit. It said it would be at least three business days before someone could respond. Arrrgh! Hijo de la chingada… Makes me wonder if those NFCU customer service people sit around on their breaks comparing personal bests on the numbers of customers they’ve caused to stroke out over the phone. “Yeah, I’m up to four retirees laid up in long term care for failing to give me their secret code word.” Judas priest, who needs that kind of aggravation? I’m done with NFCU. They’ve obviously grown too big to deal with the likes of me. Time to start banking locally or go over to USAA (they’re always sending me stuff trying to lure me away from NFCU), me thinks. But enough of that…speaking of bizarre occurrences did you hear about the guy who assaulted a convenience store clerk (and then the police) on New Year’s Eve with a banana? No, really. Cue the theme from Dragnet! This happened in Iowa at 3AM when a customer (we’ll call him Banana Man) entered the store and started a domestic dispute with the person he was with. A store employee, who obviously cares too much, tried to intervene – “Can’t you see there are people trying to buy cigarettes, lottery tickets, and overly cooked coffee in peace?” – Banana Man went crazy and began chasing Sir Cares-Too-Much around the store hurling things at him, including bananas. So, then the cops show up. They order Banana Man down on the ground, but of course he isn’t going to comply while he still has a fistful of bananas. “You’ll never take me alive as long as I have bananas copper!” He was eventually tased, tackled, and cuffed (probably in that exact order). Hauled off to jail, he faces charges of (get ready for this): assault on persons in certain occupations (huh, convenience store clerk?); assault; third degree criminal mischief; and, interference with official acts (must pay for that taser somehow, I reckon). What have we learned here today?
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