In 2013, my second wife and I bought a house. The oil furnace died three months later. We needed a loan to get a heat pump installed. I applied with the credit union where I’d been a member since 1985. This credit union was based in another state.

I got an email stating that the loan officer wanted documents from the court attesting that I was paying my ex-wife’s support (alimony) regularly. I emailed back telling them that: A) the courts don’t get involved unless you fail to pay support, and B) the payments were set on autopay from the same credit union, so they could see the payments going out and being cashed monthly.

The assistant loan officer replied that the loan officer required “something from the court” or the loan could not be granted.

I tried to call, but the loan officer was never available. I spoke to the assistant several times, only to get the same answer: the loan officer was insisting on “something from the court”.

After several weeks they finally abandoned asking for a court document and moved on to requesting the financial statements of all the partners of the business in which I was a partner — fifteen different people —all for a $10,000 loan. We had plenty of equity in the house, I was employed, and my credit rating was over 800, but they still wanted the financial statements of all my partners.

I politely emailed them back and said that I was not going to ask my partners to provide financial statements, and I withdrew the loan application.

We went to a local bank that knew my business and had the loan in two days.

Back before the financial crash of 2008, I worked as a seasonal temp at a bank. Rather than throwing an office Christmas party, the bank issued each team leader a prepaid card to go and have a Christmas lunch at a nearby pub.

The team I was in went. We had the usual not-too-much-fun, as it was the middle of the day and we had to go back to work in the afternoon. Then, the time came to pay, and the team leader went up to the bar. He put the card in the machine…

Bartender: “I’m sorry, but your card’s been declined.”

Team Leader: “What?!”

Bartender: “Do you have an alternative means of payment?”

Team Leader: “No, we’re from [Bank that actually runs the remote payment system].”

Bartender: “Well, I can’t let you all leave without someone paying.”

He eventually agreed that as long as one of the team stayed behind, we could go back to the office and get the card activated or whatever.

“Pub holds bank employee hostage for Christmas meal payment!”

Perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising that [Bank] was severely affected by the financial crisis.

Me: “This is [My Name] with [Bank]’s fraud department. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I’m at a casino, and I don’t get why my card isn’t working! This is my third call tonight! It’s my money, and I need it now!”

Me: “I see the fraud alert has already been cleared out. Are you still getting declined?”

Caller: “Yes, I am, and I’m not getting any texts or emails. I work for a different bank, and I know that’s supposed to happen, so your bank isn’t doing its f****** job!”

I look up the reason for the decline.

Me: “Looks like you’re getting declined because you’ve exceeded the number of declines for one day. Let me go ahead and reset that. Give it about sixty seconds, and you can try again.”

Caller: “Transaction declined! What the f*** is your problem? I actually left the casino and drove out to find one of your ATMs because it wasn’t working there! I’m trying to get $1,000 so I can gamble at the casino! What’s the f****** problem here?”

I check the decline reason again’.

Me: “It says that the amount exceeds your daily limit. I’m showing that you have a daily ATM withdrawal limit of $500 per day.”

Caller: “WHAT?! ARE YOU F****** SERIOUS?! I can’t survive a single day only being able to withdraw $500 from the ATM! You’ve given me so many f****** different answers! I’m changing banks!” *Click*

In the early 1990s, I worked for a bank, and every year they’d have a donation thing among the employees to raise money for a charitable cause. (I’ve long since forgotten what organization it was for, but I do remember that it was one that’s well known for paying their executives a lot while actually using very little for the cause.)

Human Resources would always say, “You don’t have to give.” But there was an unspoken, “…but you’d better.”

This was proven when one of my workers (getting minimum wage) simply could not give. HR harassed him to the breaking point, and he gave them every penny he had left: thirty-six cents.

And then, the HR lady came to me, all ticked off over his donation.

Me: “What more do you want? He gave every cent he had until payday at the end of the month.”

She left and reported him to our department officer.

It’s around 1992, and I work in a bank.

Client: “I need [amount around $5,000] in pennies.”

Me: “There will be a fee, as that would require a special order.”

We got it down to $1,000 in pennies and the rest in nickels and dimes. He paid $250 to get it.

A few weeks later, he came in with a Rubbermaid tub full of loose change, which he wanted to deposit.

Me: “You’ll have to roll the change and put your account number on each roll for us to accept it.”

It took him about a month to come back, and we charged him again as his account didn’t have an agreement to accept change; it was a commercial account.

We never did find out what the story was, but one of his employees said [Client] was the sort who would not pay bills until ordered and probably decided to pay someone in change.