US Bank

 

7

15

Beecher T.

Portland, OR

3/16/2009

I'll tell you what bothers me, when someone else tells me how bad my financial situation is.  I know, I live with this crap.  I print off my bank statements so I can wipe my bum with them to feel some sense of power in this world.  Every time I go into this dang place they give me the business man.  Here's how it goes:  Everything starts off real friendly when I hand them my card, they enter my information and go silent.  They tap a pen, or fart around thinking about the right way to broach the subject.  Then they look up real coy like, barely making eye contact and give me the "Uh, mister T. are you aware..."  Sweet jesus, yes I am aware, my mother is aware, Rumsfeld is aware, you don't have to rub it in.

I miss the credit union.  They never gave me crap, accepted my lot in life, and handled my banking transactions like I was a real, dignified human being.
Whoa! Are you using a new conditioner because your hair is glowing!

(p.s. This post got real political in the middle but I decided to delete after thinking about it.  I have since vowed, just a minute ago, never to write reviews while drunk, because things can get ugly real quick.  Think before you review!)

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