It's definite; I hate my bank.
Last week I got a letter from the Fraud team at my bank saying that our credit cards may have been involved in some sort of nasty international credit card fraud, and could I please call them.
So I did.
The nice lady on the phone told me that because of the aforementioned fraud, they'd cancelled a couple of our credit card transactions and wanted our consent to have the cards themselves cancelled. She promised our replacement cards would be couriered in two days' time.
This was bad enough, because one of the transactions they cancelled was the boy's subscription to the online game, World of Warcraft. One evening he just couldn't get into the game, and spent the next couple of hours looking like someone who'd gone home to find someone had bulldozed his house.
The other transaction they cancelled was the payment for our passport applications.
the new credit cards didn't arrive. The courier didn't come by on the Friday, when he was expected. He didn't come on Saturday either. Without a credit card, this afternoon's Baby-free time was spending looking forlornly through the shop windows.
But wait - there's more.
On Saturday I received our latest credit card bill. I'd barely gotten over discovering that, if your minimum repayment is even one day past the due date, there's a $25 late fee. Hell, I thought the exhorbitant interest rate was a late fee. The next thing I discovered was that we were charged credit card cancellation fees.
That's right. Our credit cards were cancelled because the bank's security is shite, and we're being charged for the privilege.
Bank of New Zealand, I am not impressed.