I sat down tonight to pay some bills as I am wont to do every couple of weeks; for some reason when you own people money, they want it paid back. Go figure.
Like millions of other people, I pay most of our bills online; I pulled out the checkbook, pulled up the URL for the Spouse Thingy's credit card, and typed in the user name.
No such user exists.
Must have made a typo. No biggee.
No such user exits.
Now, he's had that account for over 25 years; he's had the account user name for as long as we've been able to pay the bill online. That user exists.
I tried once more; a customer service chat window opened up asking if I needed help. And obviously I did, since a nearly three decades old account apparently vaporized since the last time I needed to make a payment. I said I did indeed need help, and I answered all the requisite questions.
"I'm sorry, but I don't find an account with your name."
All I wanted to do was make a payment. The more questions she asked (OK, so maybe it was a she...she said her name was Natalie...) the more uncomfortable I got, and the less info I wanted to impart. Yes, those were things a customer service rep would need to know to find the freaking account, but online? Not answering those questions.
I said I would just call the number on the back of the card.
"If you give me the account number, I can provide you with a direct link to the account."
Um. No. Not clicking any link, thank you. Because, you know, you might have hijacked my computer and you're going to suck all the information up and I'll get a 35 billion dollar statement next month.
(No, I didn't say that but I wanted to.)
I closed the chat window, set the bill aside, and went to pay my own credit card.
No such user exists.
I didn't even try to get help. I set it aside, thinking I would left the Spouse Thingy call them both tomorrow and sort it out.
I went on to other things, still annoyed.
I looked at the statements again. What the hell? Did they change the account numbers again? They've done that before, but they gave notice.
I muttered "B of A sucks" under my breath, then looked again.
The accounts are with Citibank.
Somewhere, there's someone claiming to be Natalie who works for Bank of America, and she thinks the Spouse Thingy is paranoid. Because, you know, it was his account so I totally claimed to be him...