For a few years now I’ve banked with Fifth-Third. I’ve had a rewards-checking account with which I earn points for spending money and for direct deposits and can use these points for various things, like a nice fifty clams deposited right into savings. The account has a $3.95/month fee, but I did the math before I set up this account and figured out that I’d come out far enough ahead that it was worthwhile.
Today I logged into my account online and got a notice that they were raising the point levels required to earn the fifty clams. This reduces the margin enough to compel me to enquire about switching my account to a no-frills free-checking account. All I really need is a debit card and online banking. I don’t earn enough to spend enough to make any other type of account necessary.
So after putting in my standard eight-hours-per, I drove to my bank and asked about switching account types. I spoke first with a teller who assured me that someone could help me. She directed me to an office and asked that I have a seat outside. Brittany would be there in just a minute to help me. As I crossed the lobby, some woman stepped out of her office and said that she could help me, rather than Brittany. I did a quick turn and made my way towards her office.
Though, I’ll admit…I felt like what this woman had just done wasn’t strictly how things were supposed to work. Nothing concrete…just a feeling, like when you’ve just eaten something with a lot of cheese and you feel just fine but suspect that’ll come back to haunt you at like 3AM.
I sat down in her office and shed my coat because it was warm. She said if I thought it was warm in here that I should go into the women’s restroom when we were done. I didn’t really respond to that because why the hell would I go into the women’s restroom? Instead I told her exactly what I was after: a free checking account. I said, “If you guys don’t offer anything like that, just let me know now and I’ll look elsewhere.”
She said, “Oh no. We definitely do.”
“Great,” I said.
She said, “I’m a personal banker and so I’m something of a financial planner. I’m going to look at how you spend your money and see if I can find ways to save you money. And I won’t suggest something to you unless it will, I’ll stake my name on that.”
“Great,” I said. “Free checking would save me money.”
We went through the basic identity stuff and she asked if I wanted overdraft protection. No, I said, I don’t. If I’m about to spend money I don’t have I’d much rather you decline my card than let it go through for a fee. She said okay, but she hesitated. I said, “It’s my right to decline that. It’s a law that you give me that option and I can decline it if I choose.” I wasn’t confrontational about it, just trying to address the hesitation I heard in her voice by showing her I know what I’m doing. She acquiesced to my decision and went back to looking at her computer screen, which I assumed had my account information up but much have had a list of things to offer that I didn’t ask for.
She said, “Do you have a credit card?” I said, “No.” She said, “None?” I said, “No. I’m not terribly interested in having a credit card.” She said, “Okay.” I said, “But I am interested in free checking.” Because so far we hadn’t talked about the only thing I came here to talk about. Heat? Check. Women’s restroom? Check. Overdraft protection? Check. Credit cards? Check. Free checking….not in the least.
She futzed around for a moment and said, “How do you guard against identity theft?”
I said, “I change my passwords frequently. I use different passwords for different sites. When I generate passwords, I view the strength-meters as a challenge. And I win. I encrypt my backups. I require a password to log into my phone. I use different passwords for my computer and for my home Wi-Fi. My home Wi-Fi password is the most complex password I’ll bet you’ve ever seen. And I have it committed to memory. It’s not even written down anywhere. “
She said, “And do you get your credit report?” I said, ‘Yes. About once per year.” She said, “Because we offer a checking account with identity-theft protection and with it you’d have access to a free credit report 24-hours per day.” I didn’t even get into why the hell anyone would need all-hours access to a credit report. She said, “It costs $7.95.”
To translate: she was meeting my desire to divest myself of my account’s $3.95 fee by offering me an account that cost twice as much. It was like I shot her down when she moved in for a kiss and so she tried reaching a hand between my legs. That seemed to be the logic she was operating under. I could have told her from high-school experience that it wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
Instead I said, “Wait…I don’t feel like you’re listening to what I’m telling you.” I want to stress that that is exactly what I said to her. If you’re a customer-service person and someone comes right out and says that to you, you need to be damn sure you start listening right away. She, however, tried a different tactic aimed at getting me to see her point-of-view.
She said, “Well you see, banks are like any other business. We’re for-profit.” I said, “Yes.” She said, “And since the Obama situation…”
I cut her off. “Obama isn’t a situation. Obama is the President of our country.” This is the only moment that I visibly lost my cool.
She didn’t notice the loss-of-cool. She said, “Yes…and since the Obama situation…” And she went on to explain the new law that limits how much they can charge businesses per-transaction for accepting their debit cards. She talked with a smirk, as though we were both conspiratorial Republicans, or at least plutocrats in waiting. ”And cutting those fees cost us trillions of dollars,” she finished up. Trillions, because apparently Fifth-Third alone could bail out the national debt.
And I said, “So you’re hoping to recoup some of those costs by tricking me into signing up for an account that costs me twice as much.” She said, “Okay. I don’t think I’m explaining myself very well.” I said, “That’s because you’re not listening.” Again, I stress that those are my actual words. For the second time I flat-out told her that I didn’t think she was listening to me.
She said, “Maybe this will help.” And she pulled out this laminated placard that really looked more like the menu/place-mat thing at Waffle House than anything else. It was essentially a poorly designed graphical representation of Fifth-Third’s accounts and their features. A fourth-grader working with Microsoft Paint could have done better.
She said, “You don’t spend enough money to make this one worthwhile. And you’re not old enough for this one. So that really only leaves you with the one you have or the identity-theft option.” I said, “So you don’t have free checking?” She said, “Well since you use direct deposit your current account is free.” I said, “No. My account costs me $3.5 per month.” She said, “Okay. So I’ll just set you up with a new debit card. Would you like us to wait until your new card is activated before we deactivate your current card?”
I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion that’d set in with her last statement. I said, “Wait wait. Hold on. Why are you getting me a new debit card? No one said anything about debit cards.”
She said, ‘It’s not your account that’s costing you money; it’s your debit card.”
I said, “That doesn’t make any sense.” And maybe it does. Maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s something no one told me or that I’d forgotten. The point is, though, that she didn’t bother explaining this to me. Instead she said, “We’ll just set you up with a card and you’ll have free checking.”
I said, “You know what? I’m just going to go.” I gathered up my coat and said, “I told you I wanted a free checking account and so far you’ve talked about everything that isn’t free checking. I said, ‘I’d like free checking and if you guys don’t do it just let me know and I’ll look elsewhere’ and you said, ‘Oh we most certainly do.’ But you don’t want to talk about free checking. So I’m just going to go. I’ll do my research and make my choice.”
She seemed surprised, though how she could expect this would end well after the Obama comment was beyond me. Not that I’m President Obama’s biggest supporter or anything, but it’s just stupid to assume that your customer would conspire with a statement about the “Obama situation.” And I found that label to be exactly as disrespectful as I was trying very hard not to be.
I said, “Thanks for your time.” She said, “Do you want a brochure?” I said, “No, thank you. I know how to do research.”
And I left. Within an hour I had a new, free, checking – and savings – account at a different bank. In two weeks, once my direct deposit is set up to that account and I have my new debit card for my sweet free-checking account, I’m walking into that Fifth-Third bank and withdrawing all of my money. Then I’m going to talk to that woman and tell her why I’m withdrawing all of my money. Then I’ll talk to the branch manager and make sure they know they’ve lost a years-long customer because of one specific person. And if that woman happens to be the branch manager, I’ll set up a meeting with the regional manager.
Between now and then I’m involving myself in a one-man anti-Fifth-Third social-media campaign called Fifth-Third Spank.
Spank-site one: Twitter.
Spank-site two: Customer-service rep one.
Spank-site three: Customer-service rep two.
Spank-site four: Yelp.
Spank-site five: Google maps.
Spank-site six: Foursquare.
Anywhere I can talk about this online, I’ll be there. We no longer live in a world in which corporations can screw-over or be insensitive to their customers and not have that voice lost in the masses. I intended to teach them – and this woman – exactly that lesson.
