Another bad experience in an industry, banking, I used to work in and how they simply rip people off coming and rip people off going.

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I called my mortgage lender for the sixth time this morning. They have one of those really pleasant and efficient front-end menu systems where you enter everything but a DNA sample (yet) and then perhaps somewhere around the twentieth or thirtieth minute of being on the phone, something approaching a human comes on the line and asks you to tell them all the information you entered.

Around about the forty-third minute we finally got to the question "how can I be of service today," which is both kind and laughable as this is a bank and the only service banks provide, male prostitutes have been providing for years, and banks don't even offer lubricant.

"Well, I gotta tell you I'm about exhausted," I said.

"How can I be of service to you?" the almost human voice on the other end of the phone intoned.

"Well, we had our mortgage payment set up at a bank..."

"An automatic bank draft?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Paperless is just magical, isn't it?"

"Well, except when you have to wipe, which I feel like anytime I have to try and talk with you."

"How can I be of service to you?"

This was sort of a circular conversation and although I wanted to say "is there any chance you could fire bomb yourself?" with some admitted pride, however, I restrained myself.

"Look," I began, "this is the sixth time I've called [name of major bank] about our mortgage. I had this set up on an automatic bank draft and when I left this bank I called [call 1] and asked if I needed to do anything to get a paper invoice, and the almost human voice on the other end of the line told me I didn't."

"Oh, well, let's see how I can help you today."

"No, that's not the whole story. I didn't see an invoice from [name of major bank] and so I called again [call 2] and waited on the phone for fifty-two minutes and nothing sounding like a human came on, so I decided to call back another time. But then I, like many Americans, got busy at work and I wasn't able to call back for about a week. When I finally did [call 3] I got something sounding like a human who assured me they'd have an invoice in the mail."

"How can I be of service to you?"

"Okay, you can stop saying that and listen," I said as the thought of the fire bomb thing flirted in my head. "I didn't see anything again in the mail, so I called again [call 4] got a human sounding thing and it told me that '[name of major bank] was sending out those invoices today.'" "Wow," I thought, "imagine how lucky I was that on the very day I had called and waded through this menu phone systems for thirty-three minutes, on that very day, you all were sending out invoices." But instead I thanked the somewhat human sounding voice for its help.

And I only waited a few days and nothing showed up. Time was growing short and I knew my mortgage would be coming due, so I called back again [call 5]. At the twenty-first minute I discovered there were only human sounding things working until "9 p.m. Eastern Standard Time."

"And so that's why I'm calling you today [call 6] to see when my payment is due, if I can get a paper invoice and to make a payment if necessary."

"Let me see if you have invoices turned off for some reason. Can you hold for just a moment?"

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Four minutes.

I really need to take a whiz.

Seven minutes.

"Okay, I've turned on invoices. I don't know why they were turned off, but you'll receive a bill in the next few days."

"How come did the last almost human voice tell me I was going to receive an invoice a week or so ago," I asked.

"Can I be of further assistance to you?"

"Well, when's my payment due?"

"One moment please."

One minute.

Two minutes.

"Today."

"I've never been this lucky in my life," I said. "Can I do that with a credit card?"

"We can do a bank draft. It's twenty dollars."

"You're kidding?" I said.

"Would you like me to process a bank draft for you?"

"Well, I don't think I have a lot of options, but do you have any lubricant?"

"All I'll need is your routing number and account number."

I didn't have my routing number. I went to google to search, feeling kind of powerful as I'd asked the almost human voice to hold. I searched for my routing number. Unfortunately, my bank has switched hands sixteen times in the last seven days and there are now about sixty-nine routing numbers.

"No good," I said. "There are just a ton of these."

"They go by state."

I searched by state and nothing came up.

"No good," I said.

"We have to have that routing number. Can you call your bank?"

"It's 7:30 a.m. here and banks don't open until after all their customers go to work, so there's no way to call them."

"Oh, well, can I be of other service to you?"

I called my bank a bit later and got the routing number. I'm writing this while I'm wading through the phone system at the [name of major bank], my mortgage lender. I thought this a good use of my time.

I did make it to the bathroom, but I still feel like I could use some lubricant.

Too bad, too, as there was probably a time when the job of a bank wasn't to screw their customers at every turn, but those times, if they existed, have obviously passed...badly. And you know twenty bucks isn't all that big a deal, but just because it's not going in very far doesn't mean we're not getting screwed...badly.

Authors Bio:
A writer for over 30 years and political satirist. Of course without a single published piece of merit, which makes me your average American blogger.