Today, I had the pleasure of not only being yelled at and belittled by a full-of-himself Assistant Manager, but also being told that I am a “delinquent.” Before I continue, a bit of back story for your reading pleasure…
Three years ago, I went into a branch office to make a deposit into my BoA bank account, as I’d done regularly for years. As I handed the teller over $3,200 in cash and checks, I had no reason to believe there would ever be an issue with accessing my own money. That was until two days later when I noticed that the deposit still hadn’t been credited to my account.
A quick trip back to the same branch revealed a serious error: My money had accidentally been credited to an account that belonged to someone else. The kicker? The manager was adamant there was no mistake and “I must not have deposited the money in a BoA account.” Excuse me??
Luckily, I happened to still have the small receipt they give you with each transaction. As I pulled it out of my bag and calmly placed it on the man’s desk, he turned 27 shades of red and began to apologize profusely (he was quite nice once the error was discovered and he had proof–he was never rude to me; just skeptical that this kind of mistake was made). Undeterred, I smiled as I requested the immediate closing of my account. Again, this was three years ago.
Fast-forward to last week when I received a mysterious letter from BoA in my mailbox. Upon opening it, you can imagine my surprise as I read that my account was “overdrawn.” An account that I no longer have a debit card for, have no checks, and have never received an e-statement or for which a single piece of mail was never sent to me in.three.years.
I immediately Googled a customer service number, and I had the joy of speaking with a woman whose only response to my request for more information and options to clear up the mess was, “You need to go to a branch and hope somebody there can help you.” Needless to say, I could tell this wasn’t going to be a fun experience.
Today, I went into a local branch right before closing time. The Assistant Manager was at a desk near the front door, so I approached him about clearing up the outstanding issue. A long story short, he not only told me that I was a “delinquent for not managing my own accounts,” but that I needed to “stop blaming others and own up to my mistakes.” Mind you, this was said quite loudly and in front of a very crowded teller and ATM queue.
Perhaps the best parts of all of it were when we laughed at me as I had a few tears rolling down my face from sheer frustration and embarrassment, then proceeded to kick me out of the office because he “couldn’t help me” (apparently I needed to do this over the phone) and “I needed to leave immediately because the bank was now closed.” As I asked what number I could call, he rolled his eyes, locked the door in my face, then went over to his desk. He scribbled a number on a scrap of paper, came back to the door, slipped the paper through a crack in the door, and pretty much dropped it at my feet.
Score one for amazing customer service!
When I finally managed to get everything taken care of in terms of backing out the fees they’d been charging me without my knowledge and actually closing the account (again), I did make sure to share my story with the customer service rep. Luckily, she was appalled and immediately transferred me to a person who let me file a complaint about the manager’s behavior.
Moral of this story? Be diligent about your accounts, get everything in writing, and don’t ever settle for being treated like dirt by anyone.
Shame on you, Bank of America, for allowing such a monster to be the face of your business.
Please share some of your BoA horror stories and tweet/link to your heart’s content—I surely can’t be the only one who hates this company!
Photo credit: fobulousliving
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