Friday, 14 January 2011

Gangster Banker

A while back I wrote a post called 'String Vests' which was about my partner 'Bushman' and his appointment with the bank manager. Today, Bushman and I had another appointment at the bank. Nothing worrying, I just wanted to make sure were taking advantage of all the extras on our account.

Bushman had made the appointment and I asked if we were seeing the plump Asian guy in his 30's (who I know by face but not by name). Bushman says yes. The Asian guy from the bank is very sweet and doesn't make me feel bad about being overdrawn. I take a notebook and my best pen. Yes, a financial overhaul was one of my resolutions for 2011.

As we walk in, a young bank clerk calls Bushman by his first name and they exchange greetings which show that they are quite familiar with one another. Bushman follows this up by making a highly inappropriate joke about coming to collect a bag of money from round the back. Now, I don't know about you but I am not on first name terms with anyone in the bank and I certainly wouldn't greet them as if we were both members of Ndubz. It turns out that this is the person we are meeting with to discuss our account (although this appointment seems to have slipped his mind).

The bank clerk looks at me and I almost expect him to ask who I am until Bushman explains that we are together. Mr Banker looks stunned for a moment (probably because I am white, smartly dressed and well spoken whilst Bushman is black, speaks his own kind of incomprehensible English and is wearing a Bob Marley T-shirt) and then explains that his room isn't free but that we can chat here. 'Here' is in full view of everyone and considering that he doesn't know why we have come to the bank I feel this is a touch unprofessional. Then I reason with myself that his room is probably otherwise engaged because his mates are cutting up coke and fucking hookers on his desk.

The meeting goes from bad to worse. He talks a lot of shit, treats me like an idiot who doesn't understand how basic banking works and thinks that his 'lyrics' and gangster posturing will somehow impress me. He is approximately twelve. Then he slopes off to do some paperwork for us. As Gangster Banker disappears Bushman smiles at me.

"This guy, he' s like....... a bit of a gangster" says Bushman, beaming as if he has been very clever.

"I'm fully aware of that. I don't even like the fact that he has access to our account details. He's a prick." I say.

This does not register with Bushman who keeps beaming.

I look around the bank, which has had a facelift since I was last there; plush new carpets, new wall paper, big fancy signs.

"This is what the bastards have spent our money on." I say to Bushman.

Last time I was in the bank I noticed that somebody had tested out the 'pen on a chain' by writing in big letters "Can Jesus get on a donkey at Blackpool?"

I think I preferred the bank when it was shabby but employed fewer idiots.

The meeting is wrapped up by Gangster Banker talking to us suspiciously, in hushed tones, in full view of the public, telling us that if we boil our mobile phones in kettles we can claim on our insurance.

As the meeting ends Bushman looks supremely pleased with himself, as if he has surpassed all expectation. I underline the mental note which I made after the 'String Vests' incident and remind myself that Bushman and banks don't mix.


  1. String Vest Gangster Banking Adventures have transformed my shitty work day! I love your blog SO MUCH.

  2. Superb.

    Gangster Banker must be in cohorts with the nob heads who supposedly look after my father's account and have failed spectacularly to follow a SINGLE instruction correctly in, uhm, ten years?

    Too busy scratching their balls and flicking pieces of paper round their newly refurbished office, methinks.

    LCM x

  3. I still laugh when I think about the string vest episode.

    Next time you make an appointment at the bank can I come. I might try the Ndubz approach next time I'm in the bank. Apparently it works.

  4. I am terrified of going to the bank and avoid eye contact with everyone. They always seem to be trying to sell something. Can I borrow Bushman next time as I like his approach. Maybe I will take my 13 year old. He approaches everyone like they are NDubz too!!! Happy new year

  5. Oh my God I love this and String Vests! Just found you! You'd have a hayday with my Fancy Husband who insists on dressing and grooming himself in the manner of a moderately deranged homeless man and then heads out the door to a meeting in the city where they talk in terms of "10" when they mean 10 million. Ha!

  6. Fantastic story. I even love the little bit about Jesus in Blackpool--what?! Hilarious. I've mentioned you on my blog post today. :)