Oh, sweet baby cyclops on a pogostick
Sep. 1st, 2008 05:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sessifetShort version for those who can't be arsed to hunt down and read the previous entries: have been trying to get a UK bank account for the past nine months. Have been failing spectacularly. In the course of trying to get this little thing done have coined the phrase 'arse-buggering festering twatmuffin', have likened the process to removing teeth with someone else's fingers. Have seriously considered blowing Gordon Brown if this would help me get a bank account. Gave up on HSBC and tried NatWest. Gave up on NatWest and went back to HSBC. Have been told not to touch Royal Bank of Scotland, not even with someone else bargepole. Wandered into Lloyds but they were so busy at that time I wandered out again.
The last post I made about this was hopeful. All I needed to do was get two letters: one from my agency and one from my umbrella company. Now, the first wasn't too bad. I only had to call them twice and email them once to get this sorted. I have the letter. Umbrella company was a bit more difficult and I still haven't got a letter by post, but I managed to get a headed letter as an attachment by email.
Today I tried calling the helpful HSBC lady on the telephone number found on the business card she gave me. I call the number and get an IVR. This says the following 'If you are an existing HSBC customer, please enter your branch sort code. For credit card inquiries, please enter your 16-digit credit card number.' I wait. I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. After 30 seconds silence I get 'I'm sorry, I did not get a response. Please enter your branch sort code or your 16-digit credit card number.' I wait again. 'I'm sorry...' I press #. 'I'm sorry, I did not understand your response.' I bang my head against a wall. 'I'm sorry, I did not understand your response.' There is no way for me to request to speak with a person.
I hang up and flail. I hunt for a sort code and find none. I search for an alternate phone number and find none. I flail some more on #afp and people are helpful and supply me with a sort code. I call again and enter a sort code. It requests I put in my account number. I bang my head against a wall. 'I'm sorry, I did not understand your response.' People on #afp are helpful and hunt down a telephone number (thanks, by the way). It is the same phone number every time and the one I've been calling already. I start giggling hysterically.
Housemate hunts down the general number and suggests I request a contact number or to be put through. I call and hit a brick wall. No contact numbers and no way to put me through. I hang up politely and bang my head against a wall. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I am already very angry.
In desperation, I call the Dutch consulate. I talk to a very nice woman who is aghast at how long it's taken me to get this done. I admit I've given up twice just because I couldn't deal with the hoop jumping any more and I sit there crying at someone I've never before met in my entire life. She herself cannot help me, but will ask her coworker to have a look and call me back to see if they can add some political clout to the process. I'd even be happy with 'I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do, but at least you've covered all the avenues,' as I can't tell right now if I'm missing something small but vital. It can't be this difficult, can it?
How in the name of sweet baby Jesus am I supposed to get a hold of someone to finalise my details? I can't get this done by phone as I need to be physically present in a branch. I cannot call the branch because I cannot get through the IVR without a bank account number. I cannot go there on the off chance because they'll not have time and I need to make an appointment then, wasting an hour and seriously risking putting the poor person having to turn me away in an awkward position because no one likes one of their new customers to go completely and utterly bugfuck in public.
I am seriously at the end of my rope. To some it probably looks like I'm letting small things get me down, but it's been going on for nine months now. Every time someone hints that there is light at the end of the tunnel I get hopeful that now will be the time. Now I will get a bank account and can get really going. And every time, the light at the end of the tunnel turns out to show only more tunnel and I can see where I've left my footprints the last three times.
In two days, I will have been here for nine months. In these nine months I have acquired no end of experiences and happiness and new friends and a job and all those things, but I've not got the other most vital things. I've no benefits, no bank account, no job security, no credit history. To all intents and purposes, I do not exist. I cannot start OU courses, I cannot get a loan or overdraft to buy even a shitty car, I cannot really start saving and I live hand to mouth and I'm fucking sick of it.
I just want a bank account. I just want to exist. I want to have something that I can point at which irrefutably says 'There. That's mine. That's me. I exist.'. Is that really too much to ask?
The last post I made about this was hopeful. All I needed to do was get two letters: one from my agency and one from my umbrella company. Now, the first wasn't too bad. I only had to call them twice and email them once to get this sorted. I have the letter. Umbrella company was a bit more difficult and I still haven't got a letter by post, but I managed to get a headed letter as an attachment by email.
Today I tried calling the helpful HSBC lady on the telephone number found on the business card she gave me. I call the number and get an IVR. This says the following 'If you are an existing HSBC customer, please enter your branch sort code. For credit card inquiries, please enter your 16-digit credit card number.' I wait. I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. After 30 seconds silence I get 'I'm sorry, I did not get a response. Please enter your branch sort code or your 16-digit credit card number.' I wait again. 'I'm sorry...' I press #. 'I'm sorry, I did not understand your response.' I bang my head against a wall. 'I'm sorry, I did not understand your response.' There is no way for me to request to speak with a person.
I hang up and flail. I hunt for a sort code and find none. I search for an alternate phone number and find none. I flail some more on #afp and people are helpful and supply me with a sort code. I call again and enter a sort code. It requests I put in my account number. I bang my head against a wall. 'I'm sorry, I did not understand your response.' People on #afp are helpful and hunt down a telephone number (thanks, by the way). It is the same phone number every time and the one I've been calling already. I start giggling hysterically.
Housemate hunts down the general number and suggests I request a contact number or to be put through. I call and hit a brick wall. No contact numbers and no way to put me through. I hang up politely and bang my head against a wall. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I am already very angry.
In desperation, I call the Dutch consulate. I talk to a very nice woman who is aghast at how long it's taken me to get this done. I admit I've given up twice just because I couldn't deal with the hoop jumping any more and I sit there crying at someone I've never before met in my entire life. She herself cannot help me, but will ask her coworker to have a look and call me back to see if they can add some political clout to the process. I'd even be happy with 'I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do, but at least you've covered all the avenues,' as I can't tell right now if I'm missing something small but vital. It can't be this difficult, can it?
How in the name of sweet baby Jesus am I supposed to get a hold of someone to finalise my details? I can't get this done by phone as I need to be physically present in a branch. I cannot call the branch because I cannot get through the IVR without a bank account number. I cannot go there on the off chance because they'll not have time and I need to make an appointment then, wasting an hour and seriously risking putting the poor person having to turn me away in an awkward position because no one likes one of their new customers to go completely and utterly bugfuck in public.
I am seriously at the end of my rope. To some it probably looks like I'm letting small things get me down, but it's been going on for nine months now. Every time someone hints that there is light at the end of the tunnel I get hopeful that now will be the time. Now I will get a bank account and can get really going. And every time, the light at the end of the tunnel turns out to show only more tunnel and I can see where I've left my footprints the last three times.
In two days, I will have been here for nine months. In these nine months I have acquired no end of experiences and happiness and new friends and a job and all those things, but I've not got the other most vital things. I've no benefits, no bank account, no job security, no credit history. To all intents and purposes, I do not exist. I cannot start OU courses, I cannot get a loan or overdraft to buy even a shitty car, I cannot really start saving and I live hand to mouth and I'm fucking sick of it.
I just want a bank account. I just want to exist. I want to have something that I can point at which irrefutably says 'There. That's mine. That's me. I exist.'. Is that really too much to ask?
