In short, fuck you Wells Fargo
Jun. 22nd, 2020 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feldman Dear Wells Fargo,
I have received your check for "incorrect late charges" you'd assessed at an "incorrect amount" with an undisclosed "additional amount to compensate" for the time the funds were not available for my use. I see that you still aren't sharing your arcane 'accountancy' as to how you arrived at this figure, but it's safe to assume you pulled this latest one out of your ass like the rest.
I feel petty, and vindicated, and angry, and sad.
It makes me wish I could go to Past Me, on the phone with you bastards for hours trying to get accommodation on a fucking car note I owed a measly two grand on, during what was for Michigan an actual economic Depression and not just Great Recession, pacing in my parent's kitchen because I was living in their attic with my child and spouse, who was racking up medical bills with a hospital just as mercenary, as I patiently and then angrily explained that I had no money to give you, because my two income household was now surviving on gig work and charity, as your staff verbally abused me as a deadbeat and thief, as I dared them to come fucking repossess, here's the address, I've already lost a house you think a Kia Rio is gonna break my heart?
I want to tell Past Me that she wasn't just defensive and rationalizing, you really were a sociopathic enterprise, and demonstrably financially culpably wrong, even in the general lack of reckoning we've had since that economic meltdown, and that these systems were grinding her to paste for no other reason than that they could, and to not feel so fucking guilty.
I still have the car.
She was a very good car for ten more years, and when she died it was on a Friday after bringing me home from work, coasting into a parking space where she still sits, because the pandemic forestalled the junkyard tow.
I will cash your fucking check, because this pittance of a nonpology is the only recompense I'll get.
I have received your check for "incorrect late charges" you'd assessed at an "incorrect amount" with an undisclosed "additional amount to compensate" for the time the funds were not available for my use. I see that you still aren't sharing your arcane 'accountancy' as to how you arrived at this figure, but it's safe to assume you pulled this latest one out of your ass like the rest.
I feel petty, and vindicated, and angry, and sad.
It makes me wish I could go to Past Me, on the phone with you bastards for hours trying to get accommodation on a fucking car note I owed a measly two grand on, during what was for Michigan an actual economic Depression and not just Great Recession, pacing in my parent's kitchen because I was living in their attic with my child and spouse, who was racking up medical bills with a hospital just as mercenary, as I patiently and then angrily explained that I had no money to give you, because my two income household was now surviving on gig work and charity, as your staff verbally abused me as a deadbeat and thief, as I dared them to come fucking repossess, here's the address, I've already lost a house you think a Kia Rio is gonna break my heart?
I want to tell Past Me that she wasn't just defensive and rationalizing, you really were a sociopathic enterprise, and demonstrably financially culpably wrong, even in the general lack of reckoning we've had since that economic meltdown, and that these systems were grinding her to paste for no other reason than that they could, and to not feel so fucking guilty.
I still have the car.
She was a very good car for ten more years, and when she died it was on a Friday after bringing me home from work, coasting into a parking space where she still sits, because the pandemic forestalled the junkyard tow.
I will cash your fucking check, because this pittance of a nonpology is the only recompense I'll get.
