Anyway. When it came time to move to England, I tried my best to be really responsible and on top of things. I researched the vaccines I would need to have. I went online to make sure the prescriptions I needed were readily available in the UK, and emailed the college nurse to find out the best way to go about transferring prescriptions from the US to UK. I looked online to make sure my Irish passport would prevent me from needing a visa, and I confirmed that fact by emailing the immigration office at my college.
I called my bank several times, to let them know before I bought the plane tickets (figuring a one-way ticket might arouse suspicion), again to raise my purchase limit when I was buying my new laptop, and again before I left to make sure that they knew I would be overseas so they wouldn’t flag my purchases in England.
When I’d been here for about three weeks, I called them again to raise my purchase limit so that I could pay my tuition. They couldn’t raise it high enough to pay my tuition in one fell swoop, so I had them raise the limit to half the tuition so I could pay it over two days. They were, as always, helpful and friendly.
Now, after spending all of this time on the phone with my bank, I was feeling pretty good about them. The customer service representatives were helpful and friendly, and while the few times my account was flagged were annoying and embarrassing, I appreciated that they were trying to keep my money secure. I really thought that they had my best interests in mind.
Boy, was I naïve.
(And yes, I will admit that I am sometimes naïve. I work really hard to be a good person and do the right thing. As a teacher I try to be fair with my students, making choices that will help them learn and grow without stressing them too much. I reward them for making good choices and try to point out the ways in which making bad choices will hurt you in the long run.)
I had spent so much time emphasizing values and fair play that I began to believe in them.
After I’d been here for a month (and about a week after paying my tuition), I went online to check my bank statement, partly just to check it, since it had been a month, but partly to make sure that the tuition payment processed smoothly.
I was shocked to notice that a fee (3%, as I was to later learn) had been imposed onto every debit card purchase I had made in the last month. Including my super-high, non-resident tuition.
NOW. Before you roll your eyes and shake your head at the fact that this news “shocked me,” a little background.
I joined my bank (um… we’ll call them “Convenient Bank” so as to not unfairly represent anybody) way back in 1999 for two very solid reasons. First, they were the bank in my hometown. Second, they had an ATM in the student center on my college campus.
Done.
Over the years I had nothing but positive experiences with Convenient Bank. When I lost my card, they were reassuring and prompt in their service. When a rigged ATM at the gas station on 36th street stole my information, they very quickly put a hold on my card and called me to let me know that someone was buying stuff in the Midwest on my card. And the eight times that I traveled outside the country in that time (five times to England, once to Ireland, once to Aruba, and once to Israel), I had no problems with my card, no fees at British Bank’s ATMs, and – and this is the important one – no international purchase fees.
About a year ago, Convenient Bank was bought by Other Bank. Other Bank obviously sent me several reams of paperwork outlining their new policies, etc.
Does anybody read that stuff? I know I don’t.
Now, I’m sure that somewhere in those stacks of dead trees mailed to me by Other Bank was a bullet point explaining that any international purchases would be charged a fee of 3%. Let’s be clear that I’m not saying they were wrong to do so (I think it’s ridiculous, especially to have the fee be a percentage, but whatever. Not my place).
However. Over the half a dozen times I’d called Other Bank in my attempts to be a responsible adult (including the many times I mentioned that I would be living overseas, or, you know, the time I told them that I would be making a very large overseas purchase on my card to pay my tuition), not once did any of them mention that I would be charged.
Again. You are rolling your eyes at my shock that the world is not a warm and fuzzy place. That’s fine. I’ve learned this one the hard way.
So I called Other Bank and explained my situation. That they had taken almost a thousand dollars from me in fees. That I had spoken to many people at their establishment before making these purchases, and that obviously the fee was a new one, instituted since the buyout of Convenient Bank. They agreed with me on all of these points. The lovely lady on the other end of the line even generously offered to refund half of my most recent purchase fee; the purchase had been at the grocery store, and the refund would have been less than a dollar. I literally laughed in disbelief and requested that she refund both of the big fees on my tuition payments. I reiterated that these fees had never existed with Convenient Bank, and that in all of the time I’d spent on the phone with their customer service representatives, who were always soooo helpful and friendly, nobody had thought to mention that this fee would be imposed.
I kept talking about how great they had been in the past, how this fee was obviously a new thing, and how nobody had mentioned it to me on the phone.
Eventually she said she could refund half of one of the big fees. I asked to speak to a manager. Eventually I was able to convince them to refund half of each of the big fees, a total of a little over $400. I asked to speak to someone higher, and she told me that anyone I spoke to would tell me the same thing that she was telling me; this was as good as it got.
But when I hung up the phone, I was not satisfied. They still had a lot of my money, and I still felt as if they had not been as forthcoming with their fees as they could have been.
I called my mom, who is not only brilliant with stuff like this, but is also pretty damn adamant that nobody should ever take advantage of you in any kind of way, especially with stupid fees. She always speaks with pride of the way my sister will call and cry when she has an overdraft fee, being overly dramatic and emotional, and how it always works. She encouraged me to try that tactic, but I was reluctant; I would feel silly trying to get emotional over this, and I wasn’t convinced it would work.
Dad encouraged me to get angry; to say things like “this is how you treat your customers?” and “How am I supposed to pay my rent?” and to threaten to write to my state’s attorney general. But I don’t like behaving in that way; I felt like it would be a little bit beneath me, and I know that in dealing with disgruntled students, someone who approached me that way would get a LOT less out of me than someone who was polite and logical. I wanted to believe that persistence and reason would win the day.
So I took to the Twitter.
I tweeted at Other Bank, mentioning that while I’d always had great experiences with them in the past, I was seriously disappointed in the way they were handling this. They responded by giving me a phone number that was supposedly for a higher office than the customer service number I’d been calling.
While I was waiting for their reply, I filled out an online customer service form and emailed Other Bank’s international offices (not really thinking that they would be able to have any say in this, but I had to feel like I was doing something). Online customer service said they couldn’t do anything, and after I’d sent the international representative my account number, I never heard from her again (making me a little suspicious).
When I heard back from Other Bank’s Twitter account, I called the corporate office. Now, this was probably the night after I’d realized what had happened, and I’d spent hours of time online and on the phone trying to get my money back. I was exhausted, angry, and frustrated.
The woman who answered the phone was about as professional as they come: brittle, cold, and uncaring. Her measured responses and party line of “there was no bank error so we can’t refund the money” sounded well rehearsed. She even pointed out that “it looks like we’ve already helped you out a couple of times here” in reference to the refund of half of my money, as if to imply that I was pushing my luck.
Obviously the rational approach wasn’t working. So I tried dad’s approach, telling her that this was my rent and grocery money, and asking how I was supposed to eat. I cited Other Bank’s “values statement” online, pointing out that I’m furthering my education, living the American dream like the smiling families featured on their website. I even – and I’m not proud – began to cry.
Her response was chilling. She did not care. I was telling her that, as a student with no income who is paying all of my tuition and bills myself, her bank’s fees might mean I could not pay for a roof over my head or groceries.
She did. Not. Care.
Now, my situation is not dire. Yes, I am paying my tuition, rent, and all other expenses from my own pocket. I am wiping out my savings to pursue this degree. I have no loans, financial aid, or scholarships, so I am living very carefully. I don’t eat at restaurants or go to coffee shops, subsisting on instant coffee and whatever food was on sale at the least fancy store in town. There are a lot of ramen noodles, about-to-expire vegetables (trying to eat healthy on a budget is as tough as you’d think), and store-brand peanut butter on store-brand bread. When I’ve felt an urge to go shopping, I’ve bought £5 dresses from the sale racks at the local fast-fashion store and £6 sweaters from the neighborhood thrift stores.
I have a bit of a financial cushion. Even without that last $450, I would be able to eat. I would be able to pay my rent. I would have to keep a bit of a closer eye on things, but I would be fine. However, all I could think was, what if I wasn’t? What if that $450 actually meant the difference between paying my last month’s rent and not paying it? Between going to the grocery store and not going to the grocery store?
The bank’s level of uncaring was, as I said, chilling. This is what people are facing every day. While I was still upset about my money, I was even more upset about the implications of their response.
When I asked for the phone number of someone who would be more able to help me, she smugly told me that this was as high as it went.
I thanked her (always polite) and hung up.
... to be continued ...
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