A conversation about Dad’s bank account that I had with a rep from Chase at 8:30 this morning, three seconds after being jolted awake by the phone:
Chase guy: I would like to speak to yadda yadda about his account.
Me: Yadda has dementia and is deaf and doesn’t do well on the phone. Can I help you?
CG: I need to speak to someone authorized to speak on his behalf. May I speak to his wife?
Me: His wife is dead.
CG: I’m very sorry to hear that.
Me: You can speak to me. I’m his daughter and should be listed as a contact on his account. (We went through that process the last time I needed to speak to someone on Dad’s behalf. I gave him my name.)
CG: You are not listed as an authorized contact.
Me: I don’t know what else to say.
CG: May I try calling back this afternoon?
Me: Dad will still be deaf and have dementia this afternoon.
CG: Well, I can’t speak to you without authorization.
Me: OK, bye, then.
As hard as it is to believe, I’m not usually snarky with strangers. Dude was just doing his job. I guess my social filters need time to kick in when I first wake up.
Tags: Death, Family, I am going to hell, Money
It makes you wonder if those people are surprised to find that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west… day after day after day.
The mysteries of the universe, ever changing never predictable.
Why do you hate freedom?
AJ: Everyday, it must be like, “Holy cow! The sun! It’s back!”
Salsa: I hate you, Kenny.