PISSING VINEGAR Vol. 23: Hey Bank! Have You Ever Tasted Choda?
Written April/May 2002

Okay, here's the situation...

As the old adage goes, it takes money to make money. And damn it to hell, there's a certain financial institution that's planning on retiring nice and early because of my poor-credit-rated ass. Yes, you could say I have a problem. However, I also have what I believe to be a fool-proof solution. Now then, for your educational purposes, I will lay out my, shall we say, unfortunate situation.

There's a certain big bank (which shall go nameless, but let's just say it starts with 'S' and ends with 'cotiabank') that has roped me into a pretty big pickle (you know, like the kind they serve at Harvey's). Now, this particular (Scotia) bank was not my choice, but in order to obtain my car, I had to work with these pillars of society. So, at first, I didn't really mind our relationship (after all, I did have a Visa with a balance of $2500, I wanted to buy a lot of shit with it, and they let me). But I soon learned of the evil alterior motives these (Scotia) banks practice. And before you say, "I know what you mean", allow me to point out that I am NOT talking about interest rates and only interest rates. No, dear reader, there are so many other, more painful ways they can bend you over the counter and ream your poor ass with a ball-point pen (there's a real reason for having chains on the pens, but I don't think I really need to go there). So sit back, friend, and let me share with thee my tale of great sorrow.

When I signed the agreement to buy my car, it was for equal payments to be extracted automatically from my account on the 15th and 30th of each month. So, bother/sister, am I wrong to assume that the payments would be taken on the 15th and 30th? Apparently so, for not once has the (Scotia) bank taken a payment on the date it was supposed to. At first, it wasn't so bad; sometimes on the 2nd and 17th, or at worst, the 4th and 20th. But I noticed the lag growing gradually, until payments were taken, on average, somewhere between five and eight days behind schedule. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't exactly base my life around receipts. Because of this apparent horrible failure in financing, I found that on some occasions I would draw more money out of my account than anticipated, basically meaning there wasn't enough money left for the (Scotia) bank to take. If you've ever had this happen to you, you'll know that when this happens, NONE of the payment is taken, and you are charged approximately $20 for deliquency. Plus, they often find great joy in calling you to inform you that you are the spawn of Satan, and that your reign of terror will not go unpunished, at least not under their all-knowing, all-seeing eye. Now, when this happens a couple of times, you start to have some doubts about the way you handle money. But when it happens more and more frequently, you start to question the anal-probing ass monkeys whose job it is to live up to their end of the fucking agreement. I have addressed the concern of late withdrawls with a couple of their disciples, politely asking them why the payments are not coming out when they are supposed to. They promptly and sternly reply (almost as if they've rehearsed it a few times, if you know what I mean), "that's not how we do things", in essence telling me that the agreement I have signed with them is useless, since it isn't meant to be strictly followed. Now, perhaps the goons at the (Scotia) bank don't know this, but Webster's defines the word agreement as "harmony of opinion or action". So, am I to safely assume that it's okay if I don't want to pay, as they apparently aren't overly concerned with taking money from me anyway? I shit you not, friends, I once received an angry call from one of the (Scotia) bank's lackies, distressed at the fact that the money wasn't there when they tried to take it out on the 12th. The fucking 12th! That was 13 days after my last pay and 3 days before the next. Hmm, I wonder wahy it wasn't there, you acid-dropping, pill-popping, loan-shopping son of a bitch? Jesus fucking Cash, the agreement says the 15TH and 30TH. What in the motherfucking hell makes that so difficult to understand? Is their head office that fucking cheap that they can't afford to buy these fucking people a calendar?

Oh, but it doesn't stop there. Let's talk about the aforementioned Visa. Needless to say, I maxed it out faster than you can say, "That guitar's nice. I'll take it!" And yes, perhaps I was a bit overdrawn ($500 is still "a bit" right?). But trust me on this one; when it comes to brains, the dimwitted cock demons at the (Scotia) bank are fucking beyond bankrupt. These people couldn't buy a clue if they sold the franchise to Bill Gates for half his life's earnings. One day, I get a call from one of the disciples, politely informing me that I would burn in the armpit of Hades for an eternity if they didn't get some coin by the end of the month. I agreed (there's that word again) that my payments had dragged a bit (I truthfully considered asking if they'd mind if I waited til the 12th), and offered to work toward a kind and gentle resolution. They obliged, and told me that they would be satisfied with monthly payments of $60 until the waters were a little more calm. How about that, I thought. Making peace with the (Scotia) bank. Who'd a-thunk it? Well, as we all could have guessed, it was not to be. When I received my statement the next month, I was shocked to find that they were looking for a minimum payment of over $500. I contemplated suicide for a few seconds, and then came to the conclusion that the statement could have been mailed before the agreement was made (well, that and anyone who'd kill themself over $500 is pretty fucking stupid; I'd run the tab up to $5000 so I could at least spend a week in Tahiti before I blew my brains out). However, my dream of harmonious relations between myself and the (Scotia) bank was permanently shattered when they called a few days later, wondering why they hadn't received their full payment. I reminded them of our $60/month agreement, of which they apparently had no idea even existed. Plus, it should be duly noted that I sent them $200 in good faith, thus actually paying over THREE times the amount that was agreed on. And yet it was somehow not enough. After about ten minutes of nervous breathing and keyboard pounding, the disciple removed her thumb from her ass, uttered a half-assed apology, and told me that (drum roll, please) $60/month was NOT ENOUGH. I asked her under my breath whether or not she'd ever tasted choda before she continued with the confession that someone had made a mistake, and that the minumum payment I would have to make would now be $65/month. I thought "What the hell?" and said okay, and later sent them another $200. Can you guess what happens next? You bet your ass, mofo; when I got my statement this month, my minumum payment was shown at over $400.

So now, I'm waiting by the telephone, counting the seconds until the disciple once again calls upon me. And when I receive that call, my friends, I have my speech pre-planned:

Disciple: "Mr. Williston, your statement shows that your minimum payment on your Visa account is over $400, but we have only rec..."
Willie: "What was your name again?"
Disciple: "Pandora."
Willie: "Well, Pandora, can you deliver a message for me?"
Pandora: "Uh... who is the message for, sir?"
Willie: "Whoever runs that rathole."
Pandora: "Sir, if we could get back..."
Willie: "Shut it, quiff. If I could get back three years, I would have gone to your head office the day after I signed your fucking agreements, strapped with an AK-47, some M-80's, a handful of thumb tacks, some Hubba Bubba and a breifcase filled to the brim with a million dollars in handcrafted Willie special edition $20 bills. You know what they look like, Pandora?"
Pandora: "...."
Willie: "Hey, cumbucket! You called to talk, so talk to me!"
Pandora: (slightly irritated) "What do they look like, sir?"
Willie: "On the front, there's a picture of me wearing nothing but my AK and a smile. And on the back is the (Scotia) bank's world headquarters burning to the ground."
Pandora: "Sir, I don't like the to..."
Willie: "Don't you wanna know what the rest of the shit is for?"
Pandora: (a little more irritated) "What's it for?"
Willie: "Well, the M-80's are to stick up your asses so I can light a duMaurier king size from the source of all evil. The thumb tacks are to stick copies of the agreement on your fucking foreheads so your memory on it won't be so fucking clouded the next time I get a phone call from one of you penny-pinching pus-pockets. The $20 bills are what I'm going to pay you with under the rules of our agreement, since you can't read the fucking thing and don't know the difference anyway. And the Hubba Bubba's my backup for the thumb tacks in case a copy of the agreement slips off, but the second time I'm gumming it to the big wig's ass hairs, which is actually pretty good for him because I won't be jamming it with an M-80 and blowing his pigshit all over the nice shiny floor tiles."
(about twenty seconds of silence)
Pandora: "...What about the AK-47?"
Willie: "Oh, that's just for decoration."
Pandora: "Are you just about finished, sir? Because we still have to discuss your pay..."
Willie: "Hey, would the (Scotia) bank happen to be open right NOW?"
Pandora: "Uh... Y-y-yes..."
Willie: "Oh, shit! I'd better get ready!" (click)

You see, I figured since I tried to be reasonable with them to no avail, the only way to approach the sitaution is by a little, shall we say, creative persuasion. And while my payments may not go down, at least they'll know the man behind the number. And besides... oh, hang on, the phone's ringing.


Here endeth the ePISSle.


UPDATE!! UPDATE!! UPDATE!!

Well, it seems as though one of the disciples has read my little tirade. In addition, it seems as though I've really pissed them off. I have received a letter from Scotiabank dated May 17, which reads as a major "fuck-you". According to the letter, I am in default of the agreement that was signed (must be some kind of bizarro-world parallel agreement, seeing as how the one I signed said they'd take the fucking money out on the 15th and 30th). Now, they want the entire balance of the statement (which is over $11000) within ten business days of the date on the letter. Seeing as how I'm no longer living at home, and just got the letter today (June 9), the due date has already passed. If I'm reading this unholy scribe correctly, by this time they intend "to proceed to enforce our rights under the conditional sale agreement". Obviously, I didn't get any rights under the conditional sale agreement, or they would have proposed a solution to the problem last time I was talking to them, rather than inform me that "that's not how we do things" and wait for the right moment to call up the minions of hell on Miramichi to seek out my deliquent ass. At any rate, this unhappy customer is all buttered up and ready to be fed to the wolves, who are closing in around me, aligining against me even as we speak. It's really funny though, thinking about how they do things (or don't do things, I guess). I wonder how they expected to get $11000 from me in ten days, when they couldn't even manage to get $166 every fifteen days. Of course, had they read their agreement, they would have known that none of these problems would have occurred, had they not been in default. Yes, Scotiabank, I accuse you of default. Webster's defines default as "failure to do something required by duty or law". Listen up, you money-grubbing fucks: the money was always there for you on the 15th and 30th, and all you had to do was fucking take it. Now you're planning on your drastic measures, not the least of which is taking my car, I imagine. And at the end of the day, it's not because I failed to pay. Even when you tried on numerous occasions to contact me in vain, I was not to blame (perhaps if you had taken the effort to try a number other than my home...). No, dear cocksuckers, what it all comes down to is the fact that you have an extremely flawed system. Then again, maybe it's not so flawed. If your goal as a bank is to ruin the power of an agreement (not to mention credit ratings and, ultimately, lives), then you're doing a marvelous job. Otherwise, you as a financial institution have far greater problems than the ones you have threatened me with. In any case, I invite you to piss me off again. You might be able to physically take me out into an alleyway and beat the piss out of me, but contrary to what you think, I have a brain and know how to fucking use it. And I know I'm not the only one you've pushed to the brink. So come on, big bank. We, the people, can take you. You can take our cars, our money, our way of life. But karma's a bitch whose power takes many forms, not the least of which is commonly referred to as "class action".