Hello everyone!!!

My name is Amy, and I am a friend of Mr Angry. Well, more of an acquaintance I guess, but we’re close enough that he has let me borrow his copy of the Internet for a couple of days whilst he is away schmoozing with clients at some conference or another. Just so I can tell you my tale of woe and despair. He is nice like that.

My story begins with one of my best friends having a baby (legitimate), and my subsequent promotion to the rank of God Mother. I am not able to grant wishes like God Mothers of the Fairy variety, so I decided on the second best gift for my new God Daughter, that of cold hard cash. Those Two Kings knew nothing with their Frankincense and Myrrh. Baby Jesus wanted the Gold.

After surfing the Internet for a while, and consulting Money Saving Expert (he is very clever), it transpired that the Halifax had the best rate of interest for children’s savings accounts. They are my bank, so this made me happy.

This excellent rate of interest meant I would not not only be generous, but I would also be a financially savvy God Mother!

I went to the Halifax homepage and followed the appropriate, easy-to-find links to open an account on-line. After several clicks and entering quite a few personal details (5′7″, blue eyes, brunette, if you’re interested), I was informed that I would need to phone them.

This is struck me as somewhat strange for an on-line application process.

I duly picked up the phone and dialled the appropriate number. A call centre operative (as I believe telephone monkeys like to be called) answered the phone and very pleasantly took the details from me that I had already spent 10 minutes entering into the Internet (I type slowly).

A reasonable enquiry as to why I had to duplicate information got me nothing but awkward silence. I assumed I was ‘off script’ at this point, so I let it lie.

The call centre operative continued, “I have opened the account for you and you will receive notification within 5 working days. Once you receive the notification, all you have to do is fill in and sign the forms, go into your nearest branch and verify yourself.”

Once again, I note the distinct lack of ‘on-line’ activity in opening this on-line account.

“I’m sorry, verify myself?” I enquired.

“Yes ma’am, you have to provide some documentation to prove you are who you say you are, and provide a utility bill to verify your address.”

“Why do I have to do this exactly?”

“Oh, it’s for anti-money laundering purposes.”

“But I have a mortgage with you. So you know who I am and where I live. In fact, you lent me the money to buy the house you want me to prove I live in. You send me regular statements, to that address, detailing the mortgage payments I have made and monies owing to date.”

“I’m sorry but you have to verify yourself in person. Whoever verified you last time didn’t update the computer system so we have no record of it.”

“So let me get this straight, I have a mortgage with you for the property at which I live, and I still have to take in a utility bill to prove my name and address, and my passport or driving licence?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Sensing my line of questioning was going nowhere fast I thanked her and hung up, silently fuming that I actually had to go into a branch of a bank, something I haven’t had to do for several years, thanks to the Halifax’s slick not-very-online on-line account opening service.

A few days later, after receiving the documentation I was breathlessly awaiting, I found a morning where I could “work from home” and do all my errands, top of the list being a visit to ‘verify’ myself at the Halifax. Now, I purposely chose a mid-morning time to go into the Bank, thereby avoiding the lunch time queue of nutters and piss-smelling oldies. I parked my car around the corner from the branch, and made my way inside. How long could it possibly take to hand over a few forms I had already filled in, and show my passport…?

(Concluded tomorrow…)

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