I’m yours, you’re mine, I’m yours Paradise.

Just an exercise in efficiency. I’m writing this blog as I wait to be answered by a Bank on a call. The App chat after one hour chatting to new friends in India eventually got me to ring this number which may well be in England.

I’ve been told 12 times my call is valuable and the lady says she will get me to her team quickly. 29 minutes on I’m seeing if I can blog the experience for posterity at the same time retain sanity.

Meanwhile the Bank are trying to pacify me with endless pop music of which is the headline of the blog and incessant messaging of Paradise.

Let me assure all stakeholders and shareholders of the Bank this is far from Paradise and being with the bank umpteen years has no cred these days.

What happened to customer service as we progressed and got rid of banks with buildings and people with ears we are being digitally destroyed and our will to trade and do business in the UK withering like autumn leaves.

I’m determined to hang on in but the bank closes in 8 minutes and I will be in oblivion not paradise.

I thought Sort Codes were used to sort things out and account numbers to give individual status. I’m experiencing visions of one person in a warehouse call centre in Stockport on Friday evening as his mates make their way to the George and Dragon Pub to drown their sorrows of the job in gallons of beer and bin and tonic.

The lady keeps saying she will get me to the team as quickly as we can but I reckon a tortoise in Berkshire will make it faster to London. 21st Century banking at its best. I’m giving up I’m falling off my chair. Have a good weekend.