A 98 year old woman in the UK wrote this to her bank. The bank
manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the Times.

Dear Sir,

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my cheque with which I
endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations,
three 'nanoseconds' must have elapsed between his presenting the
cheque and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I
refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my Pension, an
arrangement, which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years. You are
to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and
also for debiting my account £30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience
caused to your bank.

My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident
has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that
whereas I personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I
try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging,
pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become. From
now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person.

My mortgage and loan payments will therefore and hereafter no
longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank by cheque, addressed
personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must
nominate. Be aware that it is an offence under the Postal Act for any
other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application
Contact Status which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am
sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him
or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative. Please
note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned
by a Solicitor, and the mandatory details of his/her financial
situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof.

In due course, I will issue your employee with PIN number which
he/she must quote in dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be
shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of
button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Let me level the playing field even further. When you call me,
press buttons as follows:

1 - To make an appointment to see me.
2 - To query a missing payment.
3 - To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
4 - To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
5 - To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending tonature.
6 - to transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
7 - To leave a message on my computer (a password to access my
computer is required. A password will be communicated to you at a later
date to the Authorized Contact.)
8 - To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through to 8.
9 - To make a general complaint or inquiry, the contact will
then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering
service. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music
will play for the duration of the call.

Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy
an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.

May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous,
New Year.

Your Humble Client

(Remember: This was written by a 98 year old woman; DOESN'T SHE
MAKE YOU PROUD!)

*makes copy to send to bank*



Vepl

giggles, I kept a copy myself just incase I feel the urge at 80 to send it to them also

Love it! lol