Telephone Banking

[caddyman]

Mm. A second posting in one work day. Just how busy can I be?

Not so busy that I can't rant about today's pet nark which is telephone banking.

When first I moved to London some twenty years ago, I quite liked the idea that my bank manager was 150 odd miles away and couldn't bug me face to face. Of course, with the advent of digital technology physical distance is no longer a salient factor in avoiding one's bankers. Three or four years ago I toyed briefly with the idea of on-line banking, but dismissed it as being too hackable, and my financial position is too parlous at the best of times without broadcasting my account details on to the world wide web. So, telephone banking it was (and is).

Over the years this has stood me in good stead. From time to time the bank writes to remind me that theory behind banking is that I lodge money with them, not vice versa, and depending upon the contents of my wallet, expected levels of expenditure and the temporal distance to pay day, I either ignore them or phone them up and transfer funds from what I laughingly refer to as my savings account.

Today I received one of those letters - the sort that suggests that they've mislaid Mexico's overdraft behind mine, now given that I get paid on Thursday, I was initially minded just to grit my teeth and see it through. But then I realised that the quiz season starts tonight and a fiver in the pocket, with assorted shrapnel just ain't going to cut it. So I dig out the moth eaten thing that is my wallet, loaded as usual with old train tickets, business cards, receipts for unidentifiable and forgotten purchases of venerable antiquity, hastily scribbled and illegible notes, and various bits of fluff. Hidden in the depths is a worn but valuable Barclays business card. On it there is a telephone number at the end of which lies regained if temporary solvency.

Except that the relentless march of modernisation and service improvement continues apace.

I phone the number, to hear a message telling me that it has been "replacedwithanewnumberwhichfollows:0845somethingsomethingsomethingsomethingelse." >Pause< "I shall now repeat that number, 0845somethingsomethingsomethingsomethingelse."

On the third redial I manage to get the number down.

Now we're in unfamiliar territory, and the telephone is no longer my friend.

"If your account is x; press y. If you wish to a; press b"

What the f***k is this all about? Where's the friendly little Telfordian I usually speak to?

"Now please enter the number on the front of you Connect Card"

Which one? There's three. Er... guess.

Guessed correctly!

Yay me.

"Please enter your five-digit telephone banking identity number."

Come again? What five-digit telephone banking identity number? Is that like my four-digit PIN number?

"Response not recognised. Please enter your five-digit telephone banking identity number."

>Wimper<

"Response not recognised. Please enter your five-digit telephone banking identity number."

>meep<

"Response not recognised. Please wait while you are transferred to one of our operators" klik…wrr..bleep..klik "Hello? Mr Lea?!

Oh, thank Christ for that.

"Sorry...?"

I'd like to transfer...

nyarbaggytep's right. Bewildered is the word.

Comments

[kneeshooter]

Move to smile. If you do I think I win some wine. Or that offer might have expired by now.

[romney.livejournal.com]

Does this mean you have the wherewithall to buy BEER this evening? The other team members will sense this and question you closely on the matter.

Fortunatly this is OUR team we're talikng about, so the questions will be inaccurate, inappropriate and you will get away with a mumbled wrong-answer.

Go (to the bar) Team!

[nyarbaggytep.livejournal.com]

To be fair automated telephone systems are designed to bewilder and allow large companies to cut costs by not having to answer your call as you hurl your phone at the wall in inchoate rage. Having said all that, my phone banking is actually quite useful, although I still get a better service at my branch.

What I really hate is when they ask you "memorable" questions. "What is your memorable date?" usually entails me frantically trawling through every date I can remember. WOuldn't be so bad if they dint want the year as well...

"although I still get a better service at my branch"

[november-girl.livejournal.com]

I have yet to get a better service from any branch of Barclays than I do from the telephone banking service. What seems to happen in the branch is that you wait for about 30 minutes, they pull oyur account up on screen for you to look at, but if you want to do anything meaningful they then have to telephone the call centre to do it. It's so much easier just to telephone the call centre myself straight away, and I have never had a problem with getting them to do what I need them to.

[keith-london.livejournal.com]

It's very, very, very time consuming. Did you get through to their overseas call centre in the end? :-)

[caddyman.livejournal.com]

God knows who I spoke to...

But I managed to transfer so dosh across, that's the main thing.

[november-girl.livejournal.com]

I understand Barclays are keeping theirs in the UK (Leicester?) as a matter of policy. It's one of the reasons I bank with them.

[caffeine-fairy.livejournal.com]

The trick is just to hit "0" until you get transferred to someone. Most automated telephone systems do that so that people with problems with manual dexterity can get transferred easily to a human bean.