Still Dumber Than My Frontdoor - And Sexier Than Ever

As promised yesterday, here’s the republishing of an old blog post. The new addition and justification for this re-posting is yesterday's realization, that this easily can be read and interpreted as genuine porn fiction. With focus on the pornographic level of stupidity unfolding here, I believe that it's actually quite an arousing small piece of literature. The blog post "Dumber Than My Frontdoor" was first published July 25th, 2007:

Dumber Than My Frontdoor

This day has two ends. Right now, at 11.26am, I'm still too absorbed in the morning one of the two. I went on my morning run, and went by my bank, Washington Mutual. I am a person with much love, and a belief in living with love instead of focusing on the well, not-love things, that life is also full of. But. This bank, Washington Mutual, I by now passionately hate. I have done so for months, since they have been brutally feefucking me over and over again in the most sneaky ways, and with big dumb ass smiles always blames it on somebody higher in the system than themselves, and lets me pay and pay and pay for fucking stupid nothing errors.

I am leaving the country soon, and have therefore not kept many funds in my checking account. I am told daily by email how my balance is, and it's been fine. Untill yesterday, where a check tried to pass, $25,20. It was so long ago I had issued the check, that I had not remembered it, and got an email that there were insufficient funds. There was only $23 in the account. I came to the bank this morning with cash to fill into the account. They had charged me $27 for bouncing the check. Now, there are -$4. The check is still not paid. And they now charge me an overdraft fee for the -$4, another $27. For me missing $2,20 (two dollars and twenty cents), they charge me $54. This is for one day (1 day).

I look at Armycut Idiot behind counter. I say, Do you think this is cool?
He says, Npemifhlkeruhqfgie urfghiwue, hcidfjhj fhawebafglch fhjlag, eflyjyageclfgyalsdlfbn scdlsaueygfryuwegrflc snsfdbza, shdfbalwhfc vfgrbhebyssbjkdsjbgksadjhfguerghdnv jz, in other words, can I call my manager, because I'm too stupid to think for myself?
I don't answer, I just look at him and wait for him to take a stand.

When manager comes, 22-year-old Dumb Stupid Fuck Girl In Blue Shirt With Ugly Logo, Hey, I'm Really Important 'Cause I Read Two And A Half Books And The Entire Index Of My Micro Econ Reader And Passed Two Classes In Three Months In Cabrillo State Junior College To Get To This Position, she comes up and looks at me with a look, that says, "I'm in uniform. You're in running clothes. I have a fresh perm in my hair. You have a ponytail. I'm wearing tons of eye make-up to look older than I am. You're running and look younger, than you are. What seems to be the problem (apart from these horrible inbalances, of course)." I look back, with as much love as I can administer. (Not too much, ok. I am not Ghandi, nor Dalai, I'm pathetically pissed and afraid that if I respond honestly to the situation right now, Mr. Security That's Me overthere by the door will come running because I'll be hanging by my teeth in someone's throat, and if Armycut Idiot and 22-year-old Dumb Stupid Fuck Girl In Blue Shirt With Ugly Logo, Hey, I'm Really Important 'Cause I Read Two And A Half Books And The Entire Index Of My Micro Econ Reader And Passed Two Classes In Three Months In Cabrillo State Junior College To Get To This Position look stupid, let's not go to the level of intelligence, that radiates from Mr. Security That's Me. I like to imagine his brain is just meditating, and is really, really Indian professionally good at it. Like, gone to next level where the rest of us can't follow.

I say, I missed two dollars for one day. My check is not paid, right?
No, the check is returned, she says.
I say, So, I pay $27 for having it rejected?
Yes, she says.
And that takes me into -$2,20 overdraft, for which I pay another $27?
Yes, she says.
Is that fair, do you think? I ask.
I can see we've already returned over $130 in fees to you, I'm afraid we can't return anymore, she says.
I say, these fees were out of a bunch of fees, and they were charged for a delayed transfer, which caused small overdrafts for short periods of time.
There was more than $300 in fees, she says.
I look at her. These fees were charged, and they returned less than half, in spite of the fact, that it was a matter of less than $20 for less than two days, and there were fees of more than $300. This reminds me of going to Kinko's, where my last bill looked like this:

Co-worker breathing fee: $11
Paper jammed in machine fee: $17
Greasy hair fee: $4
We could be playing Dungeons and Dragons at home fee: $26
We're ugly fee: $14
We can see you're a dumb blonde so we're totally going to fuck you over fee: $230
Extra fee for being a foreigner fee: $6
You're smarter than us fee: $18
Turning on the machine fee: $10
First second machine running fee: $8
Self-service fee: $24
5 sheets faxed: $0.50

Total: $368.50

I am not going to ask her, if she thinks there might be a better reason for the $130 returned fees, than for the $300 fees charged in the first place. I look at Idiot Armycut. I realize, my frontdoor is smarter than him. He looks dumber than wood. And my frontdoor, which is also wooden, at least has a window in it, revealing that there's anything behind the wood. It also has a doorknob, which indicates there is an access, to what is behind the wood. Idiot Armycut only signals one thing. Wood. Dumb as wood. I'm scared now, these two together are dumb enough to threaten Kinko's in taking bottom place of Dumb Staff and Happy FeeFucking Customer Service.

It is clear to me, that they have been hired here in Washington Mutual because they were to stupid to check out movies in Blockbuster, let alone the challenging task of laying sliced pickles in hamburgers at McDonalds (I know that, because McDonalds are very particualar about only hiring people, who can stay with one pickled cucumber slice per hamburger, and none of these two have that kind of math/precision/consistence skills tracable anywhere in their four eyes).

I ask her, Does it matter to you, that I have a ton of money on my other account with you guys, you know, the normal bank deal where you would've just taken the $2 missing in the checking account from that savings account, sort of let me spot myself from one account to the other - you know, the normal bank way?
She says, No, then we couldn't really charge you $54 if we'd let you cover yourself, now could we?
I ask, Do you think it's a reasonable way to treat and punish a customer, who has thousands of dollars in and out of accounts, to charge $54 for lending me $2 for one day?
She says, That's how we do.
I swallow, find some big smile and say with a shaky voice, How fast can I get out of here if I just pay the $54?
Perm looks at Wood and says, I think you can take it from here. Wood closes his mouth. He's drooling. I think, Oh my God, he has a condition. Something is wrong. These people are in charge of my money.

I RUN for the exit.

I could hardly even run home for anger and fear filling my body. Now, it's time to change focus. That was this morning. Tonight is tonight. We have a Wednesday night event at this house. We're going to elect an official mascot for the upstairs of our house. The election is between Friend, my fish, who is now in foster care by the friends of mine living here, and a dear friend of the house, she goes by the name Strap-on Spice. I will be spokes person for my fish Friend, and represent him in the disciplines, where he might get in trouble himself, like the ball gown contest. The swimsuit contest, I believe he'll win over Strap-on any day, even though she's hot.

It's going to be a ton of fun. I'll tell you tomorrow who won and will in the future be the mascot of our house. I hereby let go of bad feelings from this morning. And start being excited about tonight.

Have a great day.