Monday, March 23, 2009

Name Change Journey, Part II

My third stop of the Name Change Journey was the bank that supports one of my credit cards. I tried to change my name on line, but it said I had to go to a bank. Luckily, and I do mean amazingly luckily, there was one of these banks across the parking lot from where I updated my driver’s license. I went in to the teller and said, “Hi, I need to change my name on my credit card??”
“Really? Hang on a sec.”
I was directed to a desk of a woman who was stick thin and happily munching on chocolate.
“You need to change your name? You get married?”
“Well congratulations! However, I’m not sure how this is going to work. See, we don’t OWN your credit card, we just support it, so I don’t know if I’ll have access.”
“Really? the website said I HAD to come to one of the bank branches to do this.”
After several minutes of us both exclaiming in disbelief about how the whole credit card/bank thing was set up wrong and how silly it was that I had to come to the bank, she got my name changed, but could not request a new card with said name on it for me.
How messed up is that?
Anyway, she gave me one of her chocolates. A bite sized Easter bunny Resse's.
“Here, these things are ADDICTIVE!”
She soooo wasn’t kidding.

That was so much nicer than the condescending jerk I dealt with at MY personal bank on my fourth and final stop.
You could tell the man was less than pleased to be interrupted to actually help a customer. He begrudgingly moved aside his work as I slide my marriage license across the desk. He scowled the ENTIRE TIME I was there. He squinted at my driver’s license, squinted at the marriage license, and then scowled at me as he said, “there’s an awful lot of hyphens here.”
“There’s only ONE hyphen, in the last name. Really, I’m only ADDING a name.”
“Grunt. *Scowl*”
What a jerk! I sat there and thought, buddy how old do you think I am? That you think you can talk to me like a kid! You sexiest prat! But, I keep my mouth shut as I shot him dirty looks.
After much sighing and hmphing on his part, my name was changed on my account. It wasn’t until after I fled from there that I realized I would need a new ATM card as well. I wasn’t going back. No thanks! I’ll save that for another time. Besides, I’d just gotten a new card anyway, after I “lost” mine on the floor of the car.

The last piece of the Name Change Journey? My Pass Port. Thankfully, if I read the website correctly, all of THAT can be done via mail.

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