Saturday, August 05, 2006

The "Spouse" - Rant #2

Husband-san hands me the envelope upon his arrival home. All is well........ so I thought!!

Yesterday I make a trip to the bank to get the PIN number set up for my card, make a withdrawal and hand the paperwork with the missing credit card information in. You see, we got a letter in the mail saying we had not answered all of the questions and included was a form with the missing information highlighted. The questions we had missed had to do with the number of employees in Husband-san's company (did I miss something, but what exactly does that have to with us getting a credit card?)

As I am filling out the withdrawal slip, Nice Bank Lady #1 approaches and gently hands me my "number" - the one I had not taken as soon as I walked in from the little machine that hands them out. Thanking her and apologizing, I return to filling out the slip. I then wait in the comfy leather chairs for my number to be called. Yes, rather than standing in line to see a teller, you take a number. There are big, overstuffed chairs and magazines to read while you wait. After about five minutes, I hear my number and Nice Bank Lady #1 comes over to show me exactly to which counter I am expected. Nice Bank Lady #2 has a smile ready as I approach:

Wife: Konnechiwa (this means good afternoon - aren't you impressed I know this?)

NBL#2: Konnechiwa

Wife: (sliding withdrawal slip towards her) I would like to make a withdrawal.

NBL#2: Ah, yes. Can you re-write the account number and sign your name here? (I had crossed something out on the slip and they don't like this.)

Wife: Sure. (I do this - thinking "I knew this and should have just filled out a new slip before I came up here".)

NBL#2: Thank you very much. Do you have your ATM card with you?

Wife: Yes and I need to get a PIN number for it.

NBL#2: Oh. Yes. You got that when you open account.

Wife: I'm sorry, I didn't.

NBL#2: Ohhhhh. Usually you get that when you open account.

Wife: I understand, but I didn't. At least I don't remember picking one out. Let me try. (I slide the card through the card reader using my usual PIN number thinking perhaps I did select a PIN number and forgot- nothing). See, I'm sure I didn't select one when I opened the account.

NBL#2: You opened it here?

Wife: Yes.

NBL#2: Yes, well you usually pick one out when the you sign up. (I heard you the first two times, ok???) Ok, well you will have to fill out a change password form . (what??!)

(She runs and gets me another number which is for the customer service people - I am starting to think very bad words. She returns with the number and leads me back to the very comfortable chairs. Nice Bank Lady #1 re-appears and takes me over to a desk):

NBL#1: So, you are the authorized card holder?

Wife: Uh, no, my husband opened the account. (oh, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it!!)

NBL#1: Ah, I see. You do have a PIN number. It is your husband's PIN number.

Wife: His number works for my Card? (what?????!!!!!!)

NBL#1: Yes, it does.

Wife: Ah, I see. (thinking " I don't **&^%$!!! believe this!!! I don't even get to pick my own PIN number. Why put my name on the card if I can't even pick my own number??! Why didn't they just put "DiLaura Wife" on the card, or better yet "DiLaura Dependent", or maybe even "DiLaura person we don't trust with her own account") I didn't realize, you see this is my first time here.

NBL#1: Ah, yes, this happens a lot. It takes time to get used to a different culture and the way things are done. (oh my God, she sounds like me !!! I never realized how annoying it is and I swear right here never say things like this again.)

(I then go and sit in the comfy chairs again waiting to go back to the teller and get my, no correct that, "husband-san's" money. Nice Bank Man #1 calls my number. It takes me a minute to realize this as I thought I had just been helped, but I raise my hand and say:)

Wife: That's me. I've actually been helped already. (He looks nervous - as if he thinks he did something wrong. I realize this and say):

Oh, but I need to hand this in. (I then hand him the credit card form).

Nice Bank Man #1: (Taking the paperwork and looking it over carefully) Oh, I'm sorry, we can't take this here. You need to send this in.

Wife: I'm sorry, But I filled out the application here.

Nice Bank Man #2: Yes, I'm sorry, but then it is sent to the credit card company. This letter came from them. Here, I will go get you an envelope.

(He jumps up before I can tell him I already have one. He returns shortly later and proceeds to put the paperwork in the envelope. It is taking more time than it should as it is not quite folded properly and his hands start to shake a little at the prospect of not actually being able to do it. Triumphantly, he finishes and hands the envelope to me.)

Wife: Thank you so much (someone just shoot me now, please.)

(NBL#2 beckons me over to counter, where NBL#1 is waiting. I get the feeling this isn't good)

NBL#2: Yes, well, there is a problem. I'm sorry, but you see since you are not the authorized card holder, you are not allowed to withdraw money from the teller. (Oh, you've got to be kidding!!!!)

Wife: Oh.

NBL#2: You can use the machines to withdraw the money though. (ok, where is the gun...get me the gun!!!)

Wife: Oh good. No problem then, thank you. (Wait, why am I thanking them??)

NBL#2: Well, the amount you want to withdraw is more than is allowed by the bank. It is possible to raise this limit, but your husband will have to call. Here is the phone number.

(At this moment I want to hurt someone. Anyone, it really doesn't matter who. I want to hurt them really bad. But instead I politely say:)

Wife: OOKayyyy, so if he calls in, I will be able to use the machines.

NBL#2: Yes, right away.

Wife: Thank you so much (die!!! All of you just die!!! NOW!!!!) Is there somewhere I can use my phone. I don't want to disturb anyone.

(She points me over to another comfy chair area and I try to reach Husband-san, but he is not answering the phone. I sit for a minute realizing if ever I have anything important to do, I will need enough time to be able to do it twice, since the procedures here are so insane. I get up to leave, of course thanking everyone for their help - NOT!!!. As I walk out the door, NBL#1 calls to me. I look back and she is running towards me. I think to myself 'please, just leave me alone. Do not say one more thing that is going to make me want to hate you'.)

NBL#1: I wanted to tell you to make sure to tell your husband that when he calls to increase the limit, to have him increase the limit on both the bank machines and the non-bank machines (ATMs at 7-11, the post office,etc.). But, the limit for the non-bank machines can't be more than the bank machines. This is very important.

WIFE: Thank you, thank you very much.

I want to think something really mean, I really do. I just wasted almost an hour and will have to come back on Monday to do what could have been done in five minutes. As I ride down the escalator though, I realize that as much as these people annoy you with their STUPID and CHAUVINISTIC rules, they are just so nice...........................................They need to stop that.

5 comments:

Not The Other Mother said...

OMG!My inner-radical-lesbian-feminist blood boils!!! I picture myself acting like a stereotypical black character in a Queen Latifah movie,shouting at the bank teller, "OH HEEELLL NO!I DON'T NEED MY MAN TO AUTHORIZE NOTHIN!"
Kevin and I watched an at times funny but mostly awful Q.L(Beauty Shop) comedy last night and spent the whole time sighing but I digress...
Like I was saying,"HEEEELL NOOO! OH NO HE DIDN'T TELL ME I WASN'T THE AUTHORIZED CARD HOLDER!! HOLD THIS MOTHER@@#$$@!"

Yes, another reason I will probably never live in Japan. However,please don't worry about me. If"friend-san" comes to visit, I will behave, I promise.

Michelle said...

Uh oh, the angry American. No wonder everyone hates us. Never fear little one. You live here in the NYC where EVERYONE IS SO HELPFUL AND POLITE ALL THE TIME AND EVEN THE MOST INNOCUOUS ADMINISTRATIVE TASK CARRIED OUT IN A LANGUAGE WHICH EVERYONE SPEAKS ALWAYS TAKES NO TIME AT ALL. NOT!!!
Hey, you're JUST RESIDING there, so just play "follow the silly misogynist leader" for a while. You don't have to take it personally. The Japanese have been playing this tune for centuries. It has nothing to do with you. And don't forget, until your baby comes, what else have you got to do?
(great story though!)

mama J said...

Oh yes, you can just call me Wifey-san, which is what Husband-san has now taken to calling me because he thinks this is all just soooo funny.

It's not so much the "I have no authority over important manly things" part - it's more the "everything takes two or three attempts" part.

And excuse me, did you just call me "little one"??!!??

Melissa - You betta behave girl!!!!

Michelle said...

whoops, sorry! spending too much time with my baby. should have said "little one with all the power" (really!) and, by the way, i still think the whole deal with the credit/bankcard is hysterically funny. so old world in a way. i guess if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. i love it when someone offers me a seat on the subway. doesn't offend my feminist sensibilities at all - or maybe i just look tired and old! (come to think of it, it's always some young guy...)

Anonymous said...

I can totally relate and found the bank thing really funny. I've always had my own accounts here but the best bank story I have is when a job told me I needed to open an account at a Fuji bank outside Shinjuku station. I did and then found out it was the wrong Fuji branch (the other one I could see from the window of this Fuji). I didn't exactly understand how having an account at a different branch was a problem but I went back and asked them to transfer the account to the other branch.

Sorry, we can't do that. You have to close the account here and walk across the street and start all over again with the paperwork etc, etc.

I couldn't believe it.

Also, my mother sent me a cashier's check years ago and a bank told me it would take SIX months to cash it!

You'll get used to the natives.