After one too many times of being screwed around by CBA and having to pay for the privilege of doing so, I made the move to ANZ.
Oddly enough, I did so with a twinge guilt.
Cosy images of opening my first Dollarmite account seemed to be the main reason for the guilt. That and 15 years of history of many first in my financial history, first credit card, first shares, first bank fees, first ATM fees, first late fees and first “we will cut off your credit card for visiting Malaysia” courtesy call.
The last is what made me pick up the phone and call up ANZ to open my account. I finally stepped into one of their branches today to present the 100 point of ID, waiting to be pounced on by a smiling teller and heartily thanked for switching banks.
Perhaps, expecting a fan fare, champagne and balloons would be too much, but I certainly didn’t expect the very empty bank (good) and the sour faced teller who squinted after every sentence, eyeing me like an unwanted refugee from another bank.
It turned out that through clerical error, my doppelganger have already presented my 100 point of ID and I should have received my card and other details in the mail 3 weeks ago. After confirming that I haven’t received anything, the teller thawed a little, took my number and told me that someone will contact me to make sure that everything is ok.
Bemused and not the least assured I was about to walk away when she cheerfully called out that they opened until 7pm.
I nodded and walked away, only to hear her mutter.
“…but only on Thursdays”.
mirgraphy 