Jack Hardcastle

People sometimes ask me why I hate the Bank of America so much. Here’s a brief example.

I lost my ATM/debit/check/Visa card two weekends ago. I called them up and cancelled it — a quick and painless process. They mailed me a new card (to my home, in Baltimore) which my wonderful mother forwarded to me. Upon arrival in Houston, I removed the card and called the activation telephone number on the front of the card. I punched in my card number, expiration date, social security number, and was finished entering personal information within the first 49 seconds of the call. I was told to stay on the line to make sure the information was correct. I then spent the next four minutes and 17 seconds listening to an electronic voice describe Privacy Check, Credit Watch, and a host of other services that Bank of America offers its customers. For each one, I was given an introductory summary and the option to press ‘1’ and subscribe. When I didn’t press anything, the voice said, “Are you sure you don’t want to try ____?” It then waited another 5 seconds before saying, “We’re sorry you chose not to take advantage of ____,” and launched into the next product.

I don’t want to be sold a credit report while I’m on the phone activating my ATM card. I want to activate the card and be done with it. It should have been a one minute call, not six, on my wireless bill. That, my friends, is just one of the many reasons I hate this crappy, crappy bank.