Online banking
The Bank of Scotland is driving me crazy.
When I registered for online banking (essential for overseas travel), they failed to provide me with a username—presumably because I’m not a BT Broadband/Internet Explorer clone.
Two months later, I went to a local branch to investigate from where I ended up having to phone a helpdesk. But I got my username. The password arrived by mail three days later.
However, I can’t sign in. I reckon they haven’t given me the right details, so I tried to get them restored by following the ‘forgotten your password/username’ link, but was informed that my access was suspended and given another help desk number.
The phone advise was to go online and follow the ‘forgotten your password/username’ link.
Until I get through to a flesh-and-blood human, I will not be able join the enlightened world of internet banking. It leaves me feeling emasculated.
Flash-back to the year 1995. I have just set up my first website. I’ve been a member of the BioNet newsgroups for some time (they looked nothing like that back then) and one of the moderators asked around for ideas of how to raise money via their newly minted internet website.
I told him to display advertisements. He thanked me.
The internet, I realise, could make the world our oyster. It would make my wildest dreams possible. It would bring the world’s biggest library to our homes. It meant that, one day, we’d be banking in our payamas.
Someone would make a lot of money from this.
I walked into my bank. There on the desk were a few new terminals.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Oh,” the teller smiled: “It means you can carry out some of your transactions at a terminal without having to talk to someone. It’ll make our work more straightforward and will reduce queing times.”
“How silly,” I smiled condescendingly. “Don’t you realise that we will soon be able to do all this from our homes?”
If only.
Tags: Neither here nor there, Tag Index
Denni