A letter from a 96 year old lady to her Bank

hollydolly

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Location
London England
Apparently a 96 year old lady wrote this to her bank, and the Bank manager was so tickled by it, he sent it to the NYT...


To whom it may concern,

I’m writing to thank you for bouncing my check when I tried to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, only a few nanoseconds passed between when he deposited the check and when the funds finally arrived in my account. I’m referring, of course, to the automatic monthly transfer from my savings account, which has been set up for the past 31 years.

I want to give you credit for catching that short gap of time and also for charging me a $30 penalty for the trouble you caused.

I’m actually thankful because this incident made me rethink my financial habits. I realized that while I always answer your phone calls and letters, when I try to contact you, I’m stuck with your impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded messages that don’t help at all. So from now on, I’ll deal only with a real person.

From now on, my mortgage and loan payments will no longer be automatic. Instead, I will send a check to an employee at your bank who you will have to choose. No one else is allowed to open that envelope—it’s against the Postal Act.

I’m attaching an Application Contact Status form that your chosen employee will need to fill out. It’s a long one, but it’s necessary because I want to know as much about them as your bank knows about me. They’ll also need to provide proof of their financial situation and medical history, signed by a Notary Public.

Once this is all set up, I’ll give your employee a special PIN number for dealing with me. It will be 28 digits long—just like the number of button presses I have to do to check my account balance using your phone service. I’m just copying you, and they say imitation is the highest form of flattery.

I’ll also be updating my voicemail. Here’s the menu you’ll need to follow if you call me:

Press 1: To make an appointment with me. Press 2: To ask about a missing payment. Press 3: To reach me in my living room if I’m there. Press 4: To reach me in my bedroom if I’m sleeping. Press 5: To reach me in the bathroom if I’m in there. Press 6: To reach my mobile if I’m not home. Press 7: To leave a message on my computer (password needed). Press 8: To go back to the main menu.

If you need to make a complaint, I’ll put you on hold, but don’t worry—some pleasant music will play while you wait.
 

Here's what I found and the source:

It took a scant few seconds of fact-checking online to unearth the real author; a journalist called Peter Wear, who wrote the letter as satire in 1999. It was published in the Brisbane Courier Mail where he worked. You can read the original here. Since then it has surfaced regularly, with a 90-something-year-old woman in place of Peter Wear, and with added embellishments to account for progress in banking irritations since 1999. This version is fairly typical, although starring a youthful 86-year-old, along with stock photos of a generic old woman and besuited bank manager.
 
Here's what I found and the source:

It took a scant few seconds of fact-checking online to unearth the real author; a journalist called Peter Wear, who wrote the letter as satire in 1999. It was published in the Brisbane Courier Mail where he worked. You can read the original here. Since then it has surfaced regularly, with a 90-something-year-old woman in place of Peter Wear, and with added embellishments to account for progress in banking irritations since 1999. This version is fairly typical, although starring a youthful 86-year-old, along with stock photos of a generic old woman and besuited bank manager.
Yep... that is what is in the link!

HE was around 50 years old when he wrote it. I like when authors get the notice they deserve...
 
That was my reaction too. I spotted it as a probable fake, as it was a little too smooth and professional sounding, plus it didn't sound like any of the 96-year-old people I know. But it certainly is funny! More of these should be written.

P.S. She left out one important thing. She forgot to tell them that their call was very important to her.
 

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