Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Dolla Dolla Bills Y'allll...

Financial Institutions make me nervous. I fake confidence - and have actually done my 'money home work'- but none the less - I get a bit sweaty sitting across from my 'advisor'. I suppose it doesn't help that I think she's a stuffy mad cow (and no I am not naming names)

Recently I decided to switch banks. Mortgage and all. My Dad (I know it always seems to come back to my parents these days) loves his bank. He goes in to 'just chat' monthly - I assume for productive reasons, but I'm not sure. Anyhow, it was him that told me to go in and see what they could offer.

This is a small branch (again I'm not naming names...) There is the Manager (Dad's BFF), this beautiful Adrien Grenier look a like, a Soccer Mom, and...the Mad Cow. I mean there are probably more employees right, but they seem to be the ones with an office. I get that I'm small beans - new cheese you might say....but...Ughh...

The funny thing is, is that I had a run in with 'the cow' about five years ago when I was getting rates for a line of credit. (To clarify this older woman may be considered to some attractive and I have nicknamed her a smelly dumb farm animal only because she simply sucks) Pre tanning beds, I did look very young, and I can sometimes come across a bit... scatterbrained. She basically brushed me off and I huffed out of her office straight into the arms of the grocery store. (Cookies & Banking? - perfect!) So upon our reunion (2 months ago) I smirked right out loud (SROL!) when she told me how much she would 'appreciate my business' and how I should be proud of my 'credit score' and 'investments' (toot toot!) Yeah, I'm sure it has nothing to do with my Dad being BFF's with the manager you slimy fake meanie. She talked down to me the entire time - it was over the top phony, buuuut wouldn't ya know she gave me the best rate?! This is after telling me how much she 'loved my nails' and how 'smart' my Father' is. (Are you effin kidding me?!) Anyway, there are more gory details but these are all I have the patience for.

So I wheeled in yesterday. The moon boot was in full effect. She offered me a coffee. I politely declined (I actually wanted a cup somethin fierce, but I told her the caffeine doesn't mix well with my narcotics) she just did a tight lipped half smile in response to my weak attempt at humor. (MOOOOOOO!). She pulled every sleezy sales move ever. She tried to go back on my fixed rate - quoted me higher- told me she never offers rates that low (hmm too bad I had the printed email evidence in hand), she also fumbled around on some other promises. To say I was getting sweaty was an understatement. I wanted to barf all over her. We had many phone conversations. I got my ass outta bed this morning to come do signing and she was changing the story on me. Jesus. Play me the handi card at least. I politely and very calmly told her that it was an extreme effort for me to come in this morning and I understood that these details she had guaranteed - I had it in writing and she was trying to tell me no dice?! She didn't back down. So I told her I have other options - thanks anyway scum bag.

Wheeled out. Fuming. I declined a Big Mac (yes, that pissed - well wait, to clarify I had a Happy Meal) and spilled the story. Dad was supportive, but I was kinda hoping he would step in and...sorta... rescue me? (Aw, I am such a loser) Anyway he didn't. So moving on....

She called my cell. We were still in the area so we went back over. Long story short she hooked me up. I am very happy. Even happier that my Dad didn't pull any moves. Not so happy she referred to me as 'Sweetheart' upon the signing but I'll chose my battles.

PS. My Dad really IS the smartest guy I know :)

PPS. I am very sorry that this couldn't end with me and Adrien Grenier's twin hooking up at the ATM. Stay tuned. Ya never know.

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