The A-list audience resplendent in staggeringly cut gowns and elegantly modish dinner jackets are hushed. The world famous film star has picked up the golden envelope and is about to speak. There is an expectant hush. The moment for which all have been waiting has arrived. After a contest in which so many have seemed to be within reach of the ultimate prize, we are at last to know which one has reached further and dared more than any other.
A slight clearing of the throat and that warm, plumy voice, known throughout the planet (if only from his commercials where they never dub but always use subtitles so that his spoken, incomprehensible words can caress the tympanic membrane of hundreds of millions who have no knowledge of his language) starts the magic litany the result of which millions have been anticipating.
A slight clearing of the throat and that warm, plumy voice, known throughout the planet (if only from his commercials where they never dub but always use subtitles so that his spoken, incomprehensible words can caress the tympanic membrane of hundreds of millions who have no knowledge of his language) starts the magic litany the result of which millions have been anticipating.
“Tonight, in a night of prizes, the main and most closely contested of the awards for “The Absolutely and Unutterably and without a Scintilla of Doubt Award for the Worst Bank in the World” goes to . . .” That little dramatic pause; the heightened tension; the indrawn breath, “BBVA for the Umpteenth Year in Succession!”
To a chorus of snarls and twisted looks of derision and contempt the Managing Director of BBVA minces his way coyly into the spot light to accept his award – a beautifully hand crafted cut glass globe entirely filled with customers’ tears.
Wiping a dry eye with a €500 note and letting it flutter gently to the ground, he looks around at the sea of joyously hostile faces and starts his speech.
“I knew that we were in with a chance when our contribution to the complete destabilization of the global monetary market was appreciated; but I feel it is our complete lack of customer care linked to our cavalier disregard for petty distinctions between clients’ money and our own that I think swung it for us. I also like to think that our unsocial opening hours; our inability to communicate adequately within the organization; our arbitrary imposition of charges and our thoroughly unpleasant call centre staff all played their part.
I would also like to thank our customers – but why break the habits of a lifetime! No, seriously, we really appreciate this award and I can tell you that we are going to work damned hard to retain it.”
And if you think that was heavy-handed then all I can say is that I needed some sort of release after my morning visit to BBVA in Castelldefels.
What would you call the taking of money for something you are not providing (leaving aside religion and Ronaldino) I think we know what word is most appropriate!
It turns out that the peremptory demands for money from the shrill voiced Harpies from Madrid is because they had misappropriated my money in the first place. The have been charging for the servicing of an ‘aval’ which I have not had since June, but money draining away from my account in an almost unnoticed way because the charges are only levied quarterly! Deceitful, devilish, dubious, disgusting, distasteful, detestable, displeasing, despicable, dreadful and damnably wrong! (Please rearrange those words in ascending order of anger!)
Wrong indeed! Though no word of apology. I am told that Spanish banks do not apologise. Do any of them!
With Toni at my side lulling the bank people into confederacy by speaking Catalan, I managed to keep my temper and we eventually left the bank after filling out a ‘reclamation’ form to try and get my money back.
So far there has been no hint of legal action on my part, though the wisdom of my colleagues is that it will be shocking if any money by way of recompense actually makes it into my still open account.
One of the advantages of being a member of a union is the legal assistance which is extended towards its paid up associates: of which I am one. I would prefer to go straight to the police shouting “Stop thief!” and point them in the direction of the Castelldefels branch of BBVA, but I fear that such histrionic gestures will not achieve much. But the lawyer in the union can exert influence even on a not-fit-for-purpose, ramshackle collection of incompetents that comprise BBVA.
For the present I am prepared to wait and see what the bank will do. I now have a new bank book so that I can keep tabs on the Jesuitical Gerrymandering that I am sure will be the bank’s preferred form of defence.
To a chorus of snarls and twisted looks of derision and contempt the Managing Director of BBVA minces his way coyly into the spot light to accept his award – a beautifully hand crafted cut glass globe entirely filled with customers’ tears.
Wiping a dry eye with a €500 note and letting it flutter gently to the ground, he looks around at the sea of joyously hostile faces and starts his speech.
“I knew that we were in with a chance when our contribution to the complete destabilization of the global monetary market was appreciated; but I feel it is our complete lack of customer care linked to our cavalier disregard for petty distinctions between clients’ money and our own that I think swung it for us. I also like to think that our unsocial opening hours; our inability to communicate adequately within the organization; our arbitrary imposition of charges and our thoroughly unpleasant call centre staff all played their part.
I would also like to thank our customers – but why break the habits of a lifetime! No, seriously, we really appreciate this award and I can tell you that we are going to work damned hard to retain it.”
And if you think that was heavy-handed then all I can say is that I needed some sort of release after my morning visit to BBVA in Castelldefels.
What would you call the taking of money for something you are not providing (leaving aside religion and Ronaldino) I think we know what word is most appropriate!
It turns out that the peremptory demands for money from the shrill voiced Harpies from Madrid is because they had misappropriated my money in the first place. The have been charging for the servicing of an ‘aval’ which I have not had since June, but money draining away from my account in an almost unnoticed way because the charges are only levied quarterly! Deceitful, devilish, dubious, disgusting, distasteful, detestable, displeasing, despicable, dreadful and damnably wrong! (Please rearrange those words in ascending order of anger!)
Wrong indeed! Though no word of apology. I am told that Spanish banks do not apologise. Do any of them!
With Toni at my side lulling the bank people into confederacy by speaking Catalan, I managed to keep my temper and we eventually left the bank after filling out a ‘reclamation’ form to try and get my money back.
So far there has been no hint of legal action on my part, though the wisdom of my colleagues is that it will be shocking if any money by way of recompense actually makes it into my still open account.
One of the advantages of being a member of a union is the legal assistance which is extended towards its paid up associates: of which I am one. I would prefer to go straight to the police shouting “Stop thief!” and point them in the direction of the Castelldefels branch of BBVA, but I fear that such histrionic gestures will not achieve much. But the lawyer in the union can exert influence even on a not-fit-for-purpose, ramshackle collection of incompetents that comprise BBVA.
For the present I am prepared to wait and see what the bank will do. I now have a new bank book so that I can keep tabs on the Jesuitical Gerrymandering that I am sure will be the bank’s preferred form of defence.
Seconds away! Round 2!
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