CitiBank: We Got You By The Short Hairs.
7/18/2005
When ever someone asks me to reccomend a bank, I always respond, "I can't vouch for any of those blood suckers but wherever you go, DO NOT GO TO CITI BANK!!!!"
Whenever I am asked why, I say it is a long story. Well...
To make a long story short, a few years ago I had a serious cash flow problem which led me to run up some high numbers on the credit cards that were given to me by, among other soulless corporations pretending to be my friend, CitiBank.
Needless to say, although I was working forty hours a week, I was caught in a vicious cycle of circular debt where my whole paycheck was basically going to pay the vig of these legalized loan sharks and, also needless to say, I finally missed a payment in my attempt to flail at the water that was rapidly rising over my head.
Well that was all they needed to jack up my interest to the "fuck you" tier of 28% - 29%. It did not take long for me to realize that, at this rate, I would never get out of their clutches.
I called them and pleaded with this joker on the phone and he was all sweet and kind like I was fresh pussy getting off the bus at Port Authority from Oklahoma. He said exactly, and I repeat exactly,
I hung up the phone feeling like a schoolgirl who just made the cheerleading squad. I figured that it was fair to have some kind of penalty phase because, after all, I DID miss a payment so, after six months of good faith on time payments, I could get back to a manageable interest situation.
Well, as it turns out, CitiBank wasn’t the star football player asking me to the prom.
They were a carnivorous pimp, turning me out for $10 lube free, balls deep, ass-fucks.
Too harsh? What do you think when, on the seventh credit card statement after our "deal," not only does the interest not go down, BUT IT ACTUALLY WENT UP!?!
Upon reading this absurdity (I believe it was at 28.679%) I immediately assumed it was a mistake. I dialed the number on the statement and was promptly told everything was correct. When I brought up my conversation with my dreamboat jock I had six months earlier the pimp said, "That is on new purchases."
My mouth dropped.
I never made another payment to them again.
As the months passed, threatening letters started to come followed by threatening phone calls. I, of course, ignored them all because I remember something that no good toupeed scumbag Donald Trump said about owing banks money. When you owe the money, you actually have the power because there is no such thing as debtor’s prison anymore.
Well at least not yet.
One day I received a letter from CitiBank saying that they had a "one time offer" to settle the account "saving me thousands of dollars." After I stopped the deep belly laughing since this was the fourth time in three months they sent me this "one time offer," I decided to give them a call for the sheer fun of it and see what they had to say.
After a ridiculous automated minefield, a guy named Josh gets on the phone and asks me pretty munch the same information (Acct. #, etc.) that I just spent 15 minutes entering into my keypad.
He said his name was "Josh" but that was just an alias. His real name was Low Level Citi Management’s Cock Receptacle. Evidently, at CitiBank, they name their employees’ "Native American style" like "Dances with Wolves."
Anyway Receptacle starts to tell me what their idea of a deal is. CitiBank would graciously "suspend" their exhorborant interest rate for a whole four months:
This was a real call and the automated voice before the cock master got on said that it was being recorded for "quality purposes" so I hope they use it to train the new cogs they get for that high turnover job. If the newbies hear what their new employer actually does to working people, they might not be as easily maninpulated.
Because that is the true tragedy of my dealings with these dicks. The people I am dealing with don’t go far up the ladder. In fact they’re in the same boat as I am but they have been sodomized so systematically that instead of understanding the plight of a working stiff trying to get back on his feet, probably closer to their own experience, they relate more to the guy who dwells in an upstairs office whenever he decides to show up, mixing high balls, banging his secretary all before he takes off at 3 o'clock with the helicopter up to Foxwoods to drop a bundle of profits at the crap table.
One day, "Josh" is going to realize that he has been hosed.
1, 2, 3.
What are we fighting for?
Sixth Army
When ever someone asks me to reccomend a bank, I always respond, "I can't vouch for any of those blood suckers but wherever you go, DO NOT GO TO CITI BANK!!!!"
Whenever I am asked why, I say it is a long story. Well...
CitiBank's new corporate logo.
To make a long story short, a few years ago I had a serious cash flow problem which led me to run up some high numbers on the credit cards that were given to me by, among other soulless corporations pretending to be my friend, CitiBank.
Needless to say, although I was working forty hours a week, I was caught in a vicious cycle of circular debt where my whole paycheck was basically going to pay the vig of these legalized loan sharks and, also needless to say, I finally missed a payment in my attempt to flail at the water that was rapidly rising over my head.
Well that was all they needed to jack up my interest to the "fuck you" tier of 28% - 29%. It did not take long for me to realize that, at this rate, I would never get out of their clutches.
I called them and pleaded with this joker on the phone and he was all sweet and kind like I was fresh pussy getting off the bus at Port Authority from Oklahoma. He said exactly, and I repeat exactly,
"…after six months the rate would go down."
I hung up the phone feeling like a schoolgirl who just made the cheerleading squad. I figured that it was fair to have some kind of penalty phase because, after all, I DID miss a payment so, after six months of good faith on time payments, I could get back to a manageable interest situation.
Well, as it turns out, CitiBank wasn’t the star football player asking me to the prom.
They were a carnivorous pimp, turning me out for $10 lube free, balls deep, ass-fucks.
Too harsh? What do you think when, on the seventh credit card statement after our "deal," not only does the interest not go down, BUT IT ACTUALLY WENT UP!?!
Upon reading this absurdity (I believe it was at 28.679%) I immediately assumed it was a mistake. I dialed the number on the statement and was promptly told everything was correct. When I brought up my conversation with my dreamboat jock I had six months earlier the pimp said, "That is on new purchases."
My mouth dropped.
"You mean to tell me that this ridiculous 28% rate is for THE LIFE OF THE BALANCE?"
"Yes, that’s right."
"Is there anything you could do?"
"No, sorry."
"Thank you, goodbye."
I never made another payment to them again.
As the months passed, threatening letters started to come followed by threatening phone calls. I, of course, ignored them all because I remember something that no good toupeed scumbag Donald Trump said about owing banks money. When you owe the money, you actually have the power because there is no such thing as debtor’s prison anymore.
Well at least not yet.
One day I received a letter from CitiBank saying that they had a "one time offer" to settle the account "saving me thousands of dollars." After I stopped the deep belly laughing since this was the fourth time in three months they sent me this "one time offer," I decided to give them a call for the sheer fun of it and see what they had to say.
After a ridiculous automated minefield, a guy named Josh gets on the phone and asks me pretty munch the same information (Acct. #, etc.) that I just spent 15 minutes entering into my keypad.
CitiBank empoyee "Josh"
photographed here at
last year's company
Christmas Party
He said his name was "Josh" but that was just an alias. His real name was Low Level Citi Management’s Cock Receptacle. Evidently, at CitiBank, they name their employees’ "Native American style" like "Dances with Wolves."
Anyway Receptacle starts to tell me what their idea of a deal is. CitiBank would graciously "suspend" their exhorborant interest rate for a whole four months:
"And afterwards?"
"It goes back to 28%."
"That’s no deal at all. Look, I want to pay you guys’ back; I’m not a deadbeat. But you guys are suffocating me! How the hell am I suppose to pay (I think it was about six thousand on that particular account) at these rates?"
"I can suspend…"
"Listen, I have a deal. I had three cards with you. If you look at you records I paid one of them off in full months ago just to show some good faith. Now with the remaining two why don’t you cut down the interest to something reasonable say like 14%. Close the accounts, I won’t have any new purchases, and I’ll start paying you back tomorrow."
"I can’t do that."
"Why not?"
"Well sir, you have to see it from CitiBank’s point of view."
"OH, OK. Tell me CitiBank’s point of view."
"Well sir, in your plan, what stops somebody…I don’t mean you…"
"No, No, No...mean me."
"OK, what stops somebody from running up their balance, maxing out their cards, and then only paying 14% on the balance?"
"Only at CitiBank could someone say, with a straight face, that they are getting "screwed" because they're ONLY getting 14%. The last I looked I was only getting 1.5% at my bank. Jesus, Louie down the block would cream in his draws if he was guaranteed 14 points on his cash."
This was a real call and the automated voice before the cock master got on said that it was being recorded for "quality purposes" so I hope they use it to train the new cogs they get for that high turnover job. If the newbies hear what their new employer actually does to working people, they might not be as easily maninpulated.
Because that is the true tragedy of my dealings with these dicks. The people I am dealing with don’t go far up the ladder. In fact they’re in the same boat as I am but they have been sodomized so systematically that instead of understanding the plight of a working stiff trying to get back on his feet, probably closer to their own experience, they relate more to the guy who dwells in an upstairs office whenever he decides to show up, mixing high balls, banging his secretary all before he takes off at 3 o'clock with the helicopter up to Foxwoods to drop a bundle of profits at the crap table.
One day, "Josh" is going to realize that he has been hosed.
1, 2, 3.
What are we fighting for?
Sixth Army
posted by Larry B | 12:50 AM
1 Comments:
Not just Citibank but all of them crazy muthas.
What people don't seem to realize these days is that a larger percentage of GDP, more than ever before, is the interest on these credit cards. Middle and lower class families have credit cards, not for when they go to the bahamas but to pay rent and buy food. In addition to the credit cards there's thousands of those money lending stores that have opened up across the country. People can't wait till Thursday to get their paychecks so the get them on Monday instead through these shysters and end up getting even less from their meager paychecks. People with houses have taken out second mortages. Some day the bottom will fall out.
I will not use a credit card anymore.
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