Sunday, October 7, 2012
Wells Fargo Charges Its Poorest Customers Unnecessary Service Fees
ADAM MICHAEL LUEBKE
Los Angeles
This is a personal story. It is not objective journalism. Some of you might find a similar sentiment in dealing with your own banks.
I've been a Wells Fargo customer for 26 years. That is almost my entire life. My parents opened a savings account for me when I was a child. Growing up, I deposited the random checks from my father for working on his farm. From my first high school job, to my most recent lecturing position at the college, I've stuffed my money into Wells Fargo's coffers.
Recently, when I logged into my Wells Fargo checking account, I noticed a $3 "monthly service fee". What is this? I asked myself. Why would a bank that I've been a customer of for more than a quarter century have any interest in charging me a service fee?
After calling the 24-hour service system, and talking to a banker, I found that because my student bank account had slipped below $500 for a period in the month of September, I was issued the fee. I'm not proud of this, folks, but times are tough and I'm just finishing up a Master's program.
I'm poor. I'm rich on the inside, but that's another article.
The logic, then, as I understand it, is that Wells Fargo slaps a service fee onto its poorest customers. Including my savings account, I'm a couple months' rent from living on the street. One minute you have a little apartment with books and a bed. The next, you're living in a cardboard box on San Julian. Yet, when my mega bank notices this financial decline, when they notice I have under $500 in my bank account, they hit me with a penalty. How can I not view this as a cheap shot?
I would think that when Wells Fargo noticed the dismal state of my checking account, they would, instead of steal 3 dollars, offer me a few bucks in case I don't have quite enough to buy a sandwich. Three dollars is two cups of coffee. Coffee that I very much need as I finish up the last stages of my graduate degree.
If this sounds absurd (why would Wells Fargo send you money for a sandwich?), then ask yourself if it is not absurd that the bank received a $25 billion bailout in taxpayer dollars when the bank was struggling from getting far too deep in the mortgage crisis.
A Wells Fargo service representative might even think to call, just to check up. They have my cell number. Wells Fargo acts like my family. They have signs hanging up in their banks showing pictures of families. Smiling families. Getting loans. Fulfilling their dreams. That dream house. That new car. That expensive college education. But what happens when life turns sour? Wells Fargo will club that family over their heads.
A banker might think to call and ask if I'm upset that I have so little money. Is there anything we can do? We noticed you have virtually no money. You've been a loyal customer for 26 years. How can we help?
I'm wealthy inside, I would probably respond. Sure, I walk around in this physical realm with hardly anything to my name. But out there, in the mental and spiritual realms, I'm free. I've been places you've never imagined. But thank you for checking up on me.
Of course this isn't how a mega bank responds. Their depiction of customers as their family members is an awful marketing ploy. Instead of offering assistance to their customers who have ended up on the side of the road, Wells Fargo sends its faithful servants to pluck those last few dollars from our hands. But we were going to use that to get something to eat, we might respond. You can contact a service representative if you have any questions or comments! they say.
Some of you, dear dirty America, might respond that it's only three dollars. And that I should shut my mouth. But the point is, precisely, that three dollars for a guy who has less than five hundred is extremely important. I actually missed it.
What would it matter if Wells Fargo gave me three dollars? Would they miss it? Do they need it?
Dear Jesus, what a cruel joke. If I ever make a significant amount of money, ever, I will not deposit it at Wells Fargo. I'll find a respectable credit union. Or I'll stuff it under my mattress. I don't care. Anything to keep it out of my bank's hands.
SEE ALSO
Bank of America commits suicide
Nothing can be won from beggars
Our elites have failed us
Harry Reid asks me for $5, so I ask him back
"Like" Dear Dirty America on Facebook
Los Angeles
This is a personal story. It is not objective journalism. Some of you might find a similar sentiment in dealing with your own banks.
I've been a Wells Fargo customer for 26 years. That is almost my entire life. My parents opened a savings account for me when I was a child. Growing up, I deposited the random checks from my father for working on his farm. From my first high school job, to my most recent lecturing position at the college, I've stuffed my money into Wells Fargo's coffers.
Recently, when I logged into my Wells Fargo checking account, I noticed a $3 "monthly service fee". What is this? I asked myself. Why would a bank that I've been a customer of for more than a quarter century have any interest in charging me a service fee?
After calling the 24-hour service system, and talking to a banker, I found that because my student bank account had slipped below $500 for a period in the month of September, I was issued the fee. I'm not proud of this, folks, but times are tough and I'm just finishing up a Master's program.
I'm poor. I'm rich on the inside, but that's another article.
The logic, then, as I understand it, is that Wells Fargo slaps a service fee onto its poorest customers. Including my savings account, I'm a couple months' rent from living on the street. One minute you have a little apartment with books and a bed. The next, you're living in a cardboard box on San Julian. Yet, when my mega bank notices this financial decline, when they notice I have under $500 in my bank account, they hit me with a penalty. How can I not view this as a cheap shot?
I would think that when Wells Fargo noticed the dismal state of my checking account, they would, instead of steal 3 dollars, offer me a few bucks in case I don't have quite enough to buy a sandwich. Three dollars is two cups of coffee. Coffee that I very much need as I finish up the last stages of my graduate degree.
If this sounds absurd (why would Wells Fargo send you money for a sandwich?), then ask yourself if it is not absurd that the bank received a $25 billion bailout in taxpayer dollars when the bank was struggling from getting far too deep in the mortgage crisis.
A Wells Fargo service representative might even think to call, just to check up. They have my cell number. Wells Fargo acts like my family. They have signs hanging up in their banks showing pictures of families. Smiling families. Getting loans. Fulfilling their dreams. That dream house. That new car. That expensive college education. But what happens when life turns sour? Wells Fargo will club that family over their heads.
A banker might think to call and ask if I'm upset that I have so little money. Is there anything we can do? We noticed you have virtually no money. You've been a loyal customer for 26 years. How can we help?
I'm wealthy inside, I would probably respond. Sure, I walk around in this physical realm with hardly anything to my name. But out there, in the mental and spiritual realms, I'm free. I've been places you've never imagined. But thank you for checking up on me.
Of course this isn't how a mega bank responds. Their depiction of customers as their family members is an awful marketing ploy. Instead of offering assistance to their customers who have ended up on the side of the road, Wells Fargo sends its faithful servants to pluck those last few dollars from our hands. But we were going to use that to get something to eat, we might respond. You can contact a service representative if you have any questions or comments! they say.
Some of you, dear dirty America, might respond that it's only three dollars. And that I should shut my mouth. But the point is, precisely, that three dollars for a guy who has less than five hundred is extremely important. I actually missed it.
What would it matter if Wells Fargo gave me three dollars? Would they miss it? Do they need it?
Dear Jesus, what a cruel joke. If I ever make a significant amount of money, ever, I will not deposit it at Wells Fargo. I'll find a respectable credit union. Or I'll stuff it under my mattress. I don't care. Anything to keep it out of my bank's hands.
SEE ALSO
Bank of America commits suicide
Nothing can be won from beggars
Our elites have failed us
Harry Reid asks me for $5, so I ask him back
"Like" Dear Dirty America on Facebook
Replies
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
State Trooper Shoots from Helicopter & Kills Two Illegal Immigrants In Pickup
Los Angeles
Of course, no drugs were found. Well, shit. Troopers did find two dead people, and a third gravely wounded. The vehicle was fleeing officers, so the state trooper opened fire from the air. Seven other people in the pickup were taken into custody. That's a lot of people piling on that truck. The trooper knew he had good odds of picking off a few of them.
God, this is a great country. The only thing that could make it greater is if people started shooting back at the state trooper's helicopter. If we're going to have cops shooting at people, at vehicles filled with people, from their positions in the air, then I think it's perfectly excusable to fire back.
Is that harsh? This trooper thought the pickup's occupants were smuggling drugs. They weren't. Instead, they were probably illegal immigrants. Which makes it kind of OK that he shot at them. It's kind of like how so many criminals seem to reach into their waistbands when cops are chasing them. Then, two or five police officers shoot the fleeing suspects thirty or forty times. After the suspects are dead, the cops find no weapons. They say, "Well, he was reaching into his waistband." That happens every day here in L.A.
Our criminals and suspected wrong doers are stupid. Why do they always reach into their waistbands if they don't have guns? I just can't figure that out. Yet, they all seem to do it.
Anyway, dear dirty America, here is a video of a goofy son of a bitch shooting coyotes from a helicopter. He smiles and gives a thumbs up after he kills one. Like it's manly to shoot your gun at defenseless animals. As if that animal dropping to the ground, bullet in its head, somehow lengthens that man's penis from a few inches to several.
It's for animal control, you foolish liberal bastard, I can hear someone saying. Well, then why is he so arrogant about shooting something that can't fight back? He should be solemn as a nun with indigestion sitting in the back row of the chapel. He should be as sheepish as George W Bush attempting to answer questions about 9/11 without Dick Cheney nearby.
God, these people make me sick. Have a little courage and respect. In the next life, both the state trooper doing the shooting and this man killing coyotes will be doe rabbits. They'll be repeatedly fucked by ruthless, cocky bucks until their female genitalia are swollen and burning. And just when they think their male counterparts have had enough, the coyotes will be howling. Stalking closer. Snapping jaws. Yellowed eyes. Dripping noses. Hungry. So, hungry.
If you waste your human consciousness in this lifetime, you're going to be starting over in the next. And that's the way it should be. People like these can't be let into Heaven. I don't care if they believe in Jesus as their savior. There has to be some intelligence, first, before they can enter Paradise. Otherwise, we'll have to have Marines guarding the streets of Heaven, and the whole goddamned charade here on earth will start all over again up there.
SEE ALSO
In heaven they give out Rolls Royces for free
Presidential bollocks: it's a corporate world of mind boggling medi...
It's a Cyrano de Bergerac world
Subtle satire: Brad Pitt uses Chanel No 5 to deliver cryptic message
"Like" Dear Dirty America on Facebook