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The Saga of the BankPosted Tuesday, October 4, 2011, at 9:27 AM
As a caveat, there, be careful with banks, be careful when crossing the street, be careful with anyone and everyone. I speak from jaded experience. My tale of woe could happen to anyone. And it is also a lesson about not being too responsible because it can backfire.
My tale of started when I approached a bank that shall be nameless except to say that it isn't one of the major ones Bank of America, Wells Fargo or CitiBank. It is a credit union.
I came upon the mistake after signing up for a quarterly report from a credit card company. The credit score was humming along nicely until I one day deemed a credit score of zero, zero and with all my debt.
So I called Experian, they said they were sorry for the boo-boo, corrected it and sent me my credit report as sort of a conciliation prize. Leafing through it and seeing all that green for clear, I spied one lone orange box from the bank that shall not be mentioned unless they fix the problem, showing that I paid my mortgage late several years ago. 'Fie,' says I to myself, 'this cannot be right.'
So I called the bank, and they still haven't fixed it. Not to outdo themselves, they then started calling and saying my mortgage was late, too.
If they aren't sending letters, they are calling. Maybe I unwittingly did it to myself. In a stab to be a model credit risk, I unwittingly paid my mortgage early. Being model boneheads, they processed it the wrong way and marked it as a principal only payment and stamped it as late.
This, in turn, spurred the mortgage phone calls.
"When was the last time you paid your mortgage?" a young and probably acne-ridden ridden neophyte asks.
"I paid on 19th."
"Ah, yes, but that was the late payment for the last month."
"Allo there. That was for the upcoming month."
I called the boss man of the mortgage department again, and he said everything was fine, wonderful, hunky-dory even, and I doubt he was talking about himself, his own darned mortgage and house or his personal life.
"Thank you," I say.
"Of course. I wouldn't like it either.
A few days later, the phone starts ringing again. It is them. They're back.
"But I already paid my mortgage," I say.
"And when was that?"
"Look in your records. It should be there."
"Just give us a date.
But by then I know it is futile, useless, really, and I would have an easier time dealing with a Hell's Angel. But I have come out the other side with a valuable lesson in life. Never pay your mortgage early. They just don't get it.
I'm Not Crazy -- It's Them
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Behold, I, like many others before me, come forth with a new blog. Mine, however, starts off with posts about the joys and wonders of pepper spray then branches out to other maladies as well.
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