Alliance & Leicester. The !!!!!. And Al Capone.

Toomuchdebt

OMG you should write for a living!! Seriously though I do hope it all gets sorted out soon.

Froglet

Absolutely brilliant,Phylpho

You couldn't make it up!!

elainey_2

:rotfl::rotfl::rotfl:

I nearly wet myself laughing!!!

Mags_cat

Assuming you can locate the Bowls Captains, locked in the bow(e)ls of the local cop shop, d'ya think Bank of San-FairyAnne will let you use the secret Number number they sent you to access some cash to bail the poor old dears out?

Do let us know - the anticipation is killing me :rotfl:

PhylPho

Applicant’s Log, Star Date 24 / 04/ 2010

Delayed by A Knowledgable Friend last night on our way to rescue the incarcerated elderly captains of the Over 80s indoor bowling team.

Turns out the police station was shut anyway. Crimebustingexpert.com is unable to keep the same opening hours as Moneysavingexpert.com so next time anyone’s burgled round here, they’re all going to ring Martin Lewis.

Our Knowledgable Friend knows everything there is to know about ISA applications. He even parades his wisdom on MSE. His verdict on our plight is that we’re making a fuss over nothing.

Yes, he accepts that the entire staff of Alliance & Leicester has been replaced by a deranged computer which won’t open the door no matter how hard anyone bangs on it. (Apparently the clue is in the initials: AL. Yes, it should’ve been HAL but identity verification stalled part-way through so AL it is.)

By contrast though, our Knowledgable Friend emphasised, Bank Santander is not deranged.

It is a major global financial institution which bought up half the UK’s failed financial services sector for 25 Pesetas and has set about making all its acquisitions more professional, more efficient, and much more customer-friendly.

That people like you, our friend said, and all those other whingers on MSE don’t seem to appreciate this is because you’re all ignorant.

Oh.

In our case, Knowledgable Friend continued, what has obviously happened is that the bank has:

* received our applications;

* vetted and approved them;

* opened two ISA accounts for Mr P and Mrs P; and:

* issued a card for Mr P to use at any Bank Santander Cash Machine to access his new savings account.

Simple as that.

As I’m always impressed by people who know more than me (which means I spend every waking hour, being impressed) I asked how come a letter in respect of a card I haven’t got to access a bank account I’ve never opened is intended to convey to a customer the information that her / his address and identity has been verified, her / his application processed, and her / his San Fairyanne Cash ISA opened.

I mean, er, why not just say so?

Ah. Well, said Knowledgable Friend. They’re from Barcelona.

Que?

Our friend let go a weary sigh. Look, he said. There are still a few language problems. The only letter the bank is capable of sending out is one which has been put through Google Translation half a dozen times.

So really, it doesn’t matter what dealings anyone may have with Bank Santander, they’ll always receive that same letter. As in:

Dear Bank Santander, have I or have I not got an ISA with you?
Answer: Here Is A Secret Number Number Which You Must Eat After Reading.

Or: Dear Bank Santander, have I or have I not got a mortgage with you?
Answer: Here Is A Secret Number Number Which You Must Eat After Reading.

Or: Dear Bank Santander, I wish to claim under the insurance policy I have with you for the loss of my house in an earthquake.
Answer: Here Is A Secret Number Number Which You Must Eat After Reading.

Once you understand that, said my friend, everything becomes crystal clear.

I have to admit, Mrs P and I were very heartened by these insights. So, we asked, what will happen next?

Well, said our Knowledgable Friend. Tomorrow morning (Saturday morning, April 24th) Mrs P will receive her letter containing a Secret Number number which she must eat after reading.

As with the letter sent out to Mr P, the letter sent to Mrs P may appear to be all about a Bank Santander cash card she doesn't have and a Santander cash machine she knoweth not and a Santander bank account she never wanted and has never opened, but of course -- of course! -- it will actually be all about Mrs P’s successful ISA application and how to fund it.

Mrs P and I felt like dancing with joy.

We also felt guilty about the stuff I’ve written on here because it’s possible it may have been misunderstood.

Though our view of Alice & Fester remains unchanged, it’s pretty clear that Bank Santander – and I’m going to stop this silly business of calling it Sanfairyanne – it’s pretty darn clear that Bank Santander knows exactly what it’s doing.

I therefore apologise to Bank Santander for anything which might inadvertently have been penned here that was inadvertently open to inadvertent misinterpretation by anyone on MSE. Inadvertently.

The three of us – Mrs P, our Knowledgable Friend, and myself – therefore spent a lovely evening last night with numerous jugs of sangria and half a fried octopus. We started calling each other “amigo” as well.

As our Knowledgable Friend stumbled out of the place where we live (as distinct from the place where we don’t) and fell over the cat, Mrs P had a final, rational thought:

What if there isn’t a letter addressed to her from Bank Santander in the morning?

Our friend lay under the privet hedge, chortling.

Don’t be stupid, mi amigo, he said. Haven’t you understood it yet?

Bank Santander has the correct address for both of you. Bank Santander’s letter to Mr P already demonstrates that on the basis of that information -- as well as all the other data Mr P supplied -- he has been vetted and approved.

Therefore: Bank Santander’s next letter will be to Mrs P.

And it will likewise show that on the basis of the identical address and all the other information she has supplied that she, too, has been vetted and approved and is now invited to eat a Secret Number number after reading.

And with that, our friend shouted Hasta la vista, and disappeared into the night.

……………………………………………

This morning’s post has indeed included a letter from Bank Sanfairyanne to Mrs P.

In essence, it says the bank doesn’t know who the hell she is.

It asks if Mrs P will now provide photo-copied evidence to verify her identity.

madget_2

I have much sympathy for you, but I must admit that I'm thoroughly enjoying your posts. Brilliant! You should definitely set up a blog about this whole palaver.

Froglet

madget wrote: »

I have much sympathy for you, but I must admit that I'm thoroughly enjoying your posts. Brilliant! You should definitely set up a blog about this whole palaver.

I think he just has..............

Can't wait for the next instalment in fact

Cool_Username

I can appreciate how annoying the whole situation is, but for what it's worth this is a brilliant thread! :rotfl:

PhylPho

Applicant’s Log, Star Date 26 / 04 / 2010

An interesting weekend.

I have discovered that I am a bigamist with a phony PhD and the owner of a large part of Detroit.

I have also been acquired by the Santander Group which has more than 150 years’ experience in banking and more branches worldwide than any other international bank – hardly surprising, if it keeps buying up people without their knowledge and turning them into offices.

I am also the proud possessor of a shiny new Sanfairyanne Cash Card, delivered with this morning’s post.

The card is a vivid red, which doesn’t strike me as a colour any sensible soul would wish to associate with any bank account they might have. What’s wrong with Platinum? That’s the hugely impressive plastic I normally use (though all right, it would look better had it been been issued by an exclusive bank instead of Tesco’s. But Coutts is still refusing to offer ClubCard points.)

Anyway. This morning's letter containing this new, permanently-in-the-red Cash Card to access a bank account I know nothing about imparts the news that Abbey National plc used to include the Bradford & Bingley savings business.

Well; how about that? I don’t have anything to do with either of those institutions but I’m guessing Sanfairyanne realises I’m in the village pub quiz team and so is providing the answer to a question nobody has yet asked. On which basis, we might yet be this year's league champions: Life and Times of Bank Sanfairyanne, Its Acquisitions, Mergers & Inability to Communicate in English. Or perhaps we should all now try for Mastermind.

This morning's letter goes on to advise that Abbey is now part of Santander UK plc -- as, it seems, am I:

Together. We are Santander

The phrase is a kind of corporate logo-thing at the bottom of the letter. I wasn’t aware I was Santander until just now but if that is the case then I do feel this English language problem – as per my earlier post -- is going to have to be sorted out, and soon: as can be seen, there is a full stop after ‘Together’. But there is no full stop after 'Santander'.

Those nice people in Barcelona really are going to have to abandon Google translations. As any fule know, you don’t stick. A full stop in the middle of a. Sentence. You stick. It at the. End.

Anyway. The Cash Card is here and I Am Santander.

Distressingly, or perhaps not, Mrs P isn’t. Isn’t Santander. Her existence remains unconfirmed. This is because, according to the letter she received on Saturday morning:

We tried to contact you by email, but our email was either blocked or returned by your email provider, so we are writing to you instead.

Oh, come on, Sanfairyanne people. Don’t be so silly. The email address we provided was one of the many Googlemail addresses which Alice & Fester believe we run for the purposes of international money-laundering. That Googlemail account doesn’t return anything to anyone. Never has. Never will. As to any Sanfairyanne email being blocked, well. . .

Mrs P and I spent some time yesterday sifting through the Googlemail spam box in search of Sanfairyanne communications received in the past 30 days. There aren’t any.

The only intelligible email relating to matters financial has come from an American mortgage broker saying my application to fund the purchase of “distressed US real estate’ has been accepted. (Hence, this sudden and wholly unexpected acquisition by Mrs P and myself of much of Detroit.)

Also, according to Googlemail, I have not one but four different “Russian brides” awaiting me at the airport (presumably, they’ve stacked up because of this volcanic ash thing.)

There are also seven assurances that medication is available to make my device infinitely extendable, though I’ve no idea what that means because even our car doesn’t have an aerial.

Oh: and my Doctorate from the University of iPod, Lagos, has been granted and will be conferred by the sole surviving relative of an assassinated Nigerian Minister of Finance who wishes to place £3,124,000 in my bank account. . .

. . . Ah.

My Sanfairyanne account. Could this be what this continuing shambles is all about? Certainly, I now have such an account: today’s letter even provides the actual number.

So is iPod University, Lagos, Nigeria, linked to Sanfairyanne? Is it one of its worldwide branches? As in: Together. We are Sanfairyanne and here’s three million quid by way of Introductory Bonus? That's better than anything Barclays ever offered, though why it's not flagged up on MSE Best Buys escapes me.

Advice appreciated from wiser, brighter financial minds here.

Meantime, our attention has been drawn to a scurrilous piece in Saturday’s Daily Telegraph, where the consumer advice column run by Jessica Gorst-Williams features the following reader complaint:

"More than three months ago, I withdrew the balance of my Abbey Instant Saver account. A few days later, without reference to me, the account was closed. Two cheques were drawn as interest payments, both for £401.52. As I received neither, they were stopped. Three weeks ago I was assured that a cheque was being sent to me. I am not surprised that nothing has arrived."

Jessica replies: You requested one cheque and didn’t receive it. That was stopped. Another was sent but still it did not come. Your address had not been recorded correctly on the bank’s records.

I do find that difficult to believe.

Almost as difficult as believing that I still have no idea what’s happened to my Santander Cash ISA application.

Or why it is that although I now have an unexpected Santander cash machine card and unwanted Santander bank account, Mrs P has neither. Instead, she continues to rank as high on the list of suspected Mussian Raffia money-launderers as she was back when Alice & Fester were trying to get the joint captains of the village's Over 80s Indoor Bowling Team extradited to Newhaven.

Surely as Mrs P and I are married and resident at the same address with the same phone number, the same email address, and the same bank account we ought to be treated the same way?

Come on, Santander. Fair's fair.

Together. We are Suspicious

frannyann

Dear PhylPho, whilst I am sorry for your plight, I must admit I have laughed out loud at times, much to the confused stares of the office!