Picture this…Trinidad and Tobago, circa 2007…yuh boy just returned to sweet TNT after an almost decade long stint in the “States”. For most Trinis that automatically means either “Mee-yami” or Brooklyn but for me it was Atlanta, Georgia then Charlotte, North Carolina. Anyway, in my first month back I was unemployed and not actually looking for a job yet after 5 years in the Wall Street salt mines, but I needed a car to move around to facilitate my 12 hour drinking days.

Naturally, I approached the bank I had wired my meager life savings to for a loan to purchase said drinking chariot. Lo and behold I was informed that because I was unemployed I would not be able to get a loan, which I totally understood. However, being a solutions oriented person and having a sliver of financial knowledge, I suggested that the bank put a hold on the principal AND interest for any loan and debit my account as the payments come due. In essence a 100% cash collaterialized loan i.e. no risk to the bank.

The response I received was “we don’t do that”. To which I replied “oh you don’t do that do you? Well how about this, give me every single cent from my account NOW!”. The shocked teller then asked me to fill out a book with the reason for my closing of the account. As I wrote in the book IT IS MY MONEY I said to her “listen, if I want to come in here every week and take my money home, roll around on it in my jockey shorts and bring it back, then that’s what I will do”. That was my last interaction with that bank until reopening an account in 2019.

Before I move on to my most recent grievance with this bank, let me just say that I am the worst customer to piss off. I am very patient until I reach my breaking point and then it’s “red woman” type fury!

Fast forward to 2020. Covid-19 hits and I decide to reassess my finances. Foolishly, I decided to open an investment account at my old bank. At first the investment officer was very accommodating. She met me at the branch and I was impressed with the pandemic precautions. She attended to me wearing her mask while the bloke next to her was wearing his CEPEP weed-whacker clear plastic visor. I looked around for the two people holding the net to block the flying grass but they weren’t around. This was April 30, 2020.

To this date, July 2, 2020, more than 2 months later, I am yet to receive an account number from this bank. I keep getting the excuse that because of Covid people were working from home. Well clearly they weren’t because if they were I would have my account info. I kept following up every two weeks (didn’t want to be a pest about my own hard earned…well…earned money) only to be told that it would be opened soon. As hard as I searched my calendar and on Google I couldn’t find an actual date for “soon”.

The investment advisor lady emailed me with the price of my investment and explained that this is meant to be a long-term investment so I need not be too concerned. Here’s the thing though, I’m a very hands-off manager at the office but I micromanage the H-E-double-hockey-sticks out of my money. I need to see what my money is doing at all times. I need to know if it’s working from home as it said or if it’s taking afternoon siestas and watching Netflix. I need to be able to say to my money you’re not doing a good job here because you’re watching porn in the office so I’m transferring you to another investment. You know, the same approach my mom used on me in secondary school when she told me either buck-up or shes’s taking me out of school to go pump gas in a NP gas station, there were no Quick Shoppes in those days either.

What makes this situation even more distressing is that during that same week I opened a small investment account with another bank. You know which one, the one with the worst customer service in the country. They act like they want you to do your own banking at home for which they will charge a fee. To my surprise my account was open within 2 days and available on online banking within 4 days. When this bank is throwing shade on your bank you need to do some serious introspection.

Anyway, long long long story short, I have since informed this bank that clearly they’re not “The One for Me”. I’ve instructed them to return my little pittance. I will find some other means of putting that lazy bastard to work. If they make me go to the bank to close the account and ask me for an account number…I WILL LOSE IT! Look out for me on the news.

“Allyuh too wicked!!”


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