Banks. Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em.
Citibank, I can live without.
I'm not much for boycotts, they rarely work, but I am for solidarity so I ask you, will you please help me punish Citibank? So long as punishing Citibank doesn't also punish you, that is. It's as simple as withdrawing your funds and putting them in another bank, a good bank, a bank like, say, Bank of America, Paso Robles Branch, where the wise and wonderful Jackie had the wisdom and wonderfulness to shed any bank-issued lead-lined robes and don angel wings. Her actions came on the heels of Citibank's indescribable rigidity and complete unwillingness to be human, no doubt caused by lead poisoning. Thank you, Jackie of Bank of America. Shame on you Citibank.
The sad, sad story of the bad banking practices which incurred my wrath will be reserved for the next two people who ask, and then the story will be retired, as other sad, sad stories have been retired. Unlike Beanie Babies, retirement does not increase their value, rather it banishes them to the sad, sad story dungeon where they will be forgotten. The only way the sad, sad story can be resurrected will be if Citibank comes to me and makes restitution, at which time I will rewrite the story and give it the happiest of endings, and in a sparkling new blog entry, I will ask you to cease all punishment of Citibank, possibly even encouraging you to utilize their services. But we all know that ain't happening.
Yeah. About that sad, sad story. You see, the way it works is, you had to have been at least second in line to hear it. Yeah. And you were third. Aww. Sorry. Yeah. You were third, and yeah, you had to be second. That's the policy. There's nothing I can do. Yeah. Sorry. If you had been second, you would have qualified to hear the story, but yeah, I can't tell the story to you if you're third. I wish I could. It's policy. Yeah, sorry.