Even though I closed barely two years ago on my house, my mortgage
has been sold on twice, and it’s currently held by Wells Fargo Bank, an
institution known for fraud, exploitation and deception in every corner of its
operations. Its executives probably have corporate apartments in DC for all the
time they spend lying testifying before Congressional committees looking
into their malfeasance.
I live for the day when it becomes financially feasible to swap
them out for an actual responsible financial institution.
As far as the mortgage goes, WF does everything possible to ensure that making my payments is a complete kludge. TBF, I think that if I had a WF bank
account (which I will consider the twelfth day after never), it would be easy
to set up regular recurring electronic payments. Since I don’t I had to
manually go online, enter all my banking details and submit every month.
Well, eventually, I called their “customer service” number and
managed to get it set up from their end. But clearly their intent is to drive
mortgage customers to their other financial products, so they can more easily establish
fraudulent accounts and levy fraudulent fees.
Anyhow, a month ago I received notification that my escrow account
was short and I’d need to make up the difference. They enclosed a payment slip
and envelope for my convenience. The shortage was $0.25.
Yes, they sent me the bill for twenty-five cents. And would no
doubt ding my credit rating if they didn’t get it.
I considered what would be the most obnoxious, most expensive for
them way to top up my account. And last Friday I walked over to a branch, handed
over the bill and gave the teller two dimes and a nickel. He raised his
eyebrows at the amount, but said nothing. Dude—I don’t make this shit up, your
employer does.
So now I have the receipt, a couple of thousand steps on my pedometer
and the satisfaction of having stuck it—even in a miniscule way—to those
creeps. That’s what I’m grateful for today.
Suck it, Wells Fargo.
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