You wanna piece of me?!

My assault on Tony in Customer Service continued today.

Without giving too much information to establish identity, let's just say that I have an aquaintance in my professional life who is particularly difficult, being constantly sky-high on some powertrip, loving to appear more knowledgeable than anyone else (conveniently me) and spending the majority of her time trying to make other people look bad. I learned a long time ago that information from this acquaintance should come with a grain of salt, and on the occasions when I review where her opinion comes from, I delight in finding a way for me to be right, and her to be, in fact, a big wrong pompous ass.

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away though, because I did not have such success in my banking endeavors this afternoon. Did y'all know there is some federal law that means my credit union will only allow me to move money out of savings via online banking six times per month? I forgot about this. I move almost all of Corey's money in to his savings account on payday and then put in his checking account as needed. Today I reached my limit, so I went to the credit union with my power of attorney to move money from Corey's savings to Corey's checking.

Teller Lady takes my window slip, driver's license and POA to someone who allegedly knows more about this shit than she does.  That Woman comes over to me and tells me that they need the original POA so that they can verify the copy that they will make and give to their staff attorney for review and approval. Reasonable and sensible. That Woman then tells me that my POA is written wrong, and in order to get approval from her staff attorney, it will need to be re-done. As is, it states that I am allowed to conduct transactions with Corey's bank or financial institution. Credit unions are not banks, but they are financial institutions, which is why my attorney put that language in there. That Woman, being in no way trained to bind me to her legal opinion, said that since it does not say "credit union" in it, it must be re-done. She either needs me to do a new POA, signed by my deployed husband, or needs to be able to reach my deployed husband on the phone to authorize my use of his account.

I am learning that is what puts me over the edge. I lean my head into the teller window, where That Woman also has Teller Lady and Some Random Observer in the area with her, and begin to cry. I am stunned, and stammer at her how she would like for that to occur, since my husband is in Kuwait, making very few phone calls and mailing nothing. Not only is "credit union" covered in this POA as a "financial institution" (generic, yes?) but the last paragraph of the POA says that Corey gives me the authority to do whatever the hell I want with all of his shit, including anything and everything not expressly stated in the provisions of the POA. I refrain from using expletives with That Woman, but I am sure they were implied. I assure her that I will be back tomorrow with the original, and will wait for her staff attorney to review it, in case my attorney needs to clear this matter up with him directly over the phone.

My attorney is livid. He wishes I would've climbed over the counter to "slap the shit out of her." I am a Blue Star wife and this is no way for me to be treated. I am to go back over there tomorrow, with the original, and ask her for her supervisor AND her staff attorney. If That Woman gives me shit, I am to get her full name so that I may name her in a suit I am under advisement to file against the institution. If the staff attorney gives me shit, I am to call my attorney. He is in court all day tomorrow, but I am to call the judge's office and have them get a message to him, so that he can ask for a recess and call the staff attorney to hand him his ass. A girl can always depend on her daddy, yes?

Remember the Boo Boo Bitch from the other day? She was back patrolling the common areas this evening when I got home from work. Murphy squatted to tinkle and she again, yelled at me to pick it up, and I assured her that if my dog was going to eliminate today, I would certainly dispose of it properly. She went back in her house, and Murphy took a big shadoobie, which I pick up and tied in a little fresh scented baggie. Boo Boo Bitch had two bags of garbage I'm assuming she intends to take back to the dumpster tonight, so I set my shadoobie baggie on top of her garbage, and Murphy and I pranced inside.

Yesterday I woke up with a sore throat and congested head, and my doctor told me there was nothing wrong with me, I was just sad. I would be suprised at this, except that I developed asthma at church camp one summer to avoid playing games that involved running. So I could sit in my apartment and be irate at the Boo Boo Bitch and That Woman from the credit union, or I could disrespect them on my blog, which is way funnier and certainly therapeutic.

I've always said that if I can't make something funny, I won't survive it. I am able to find the humor in all the sad, inconvenient, and rude occurrences in life. I can't think of anything I've ever gone through that I didn't soon make fun of myself for. From whichever side of my family I got my sense of humor from, I have never been more grateful for it than I am right now.

I am also very pleased to report that Corey has called home the last two days. The more soldiers arrive at the camp in Kuwait, the worse the internet signal gets, so he really hasn't been able to do any email or Facebook. He walks with his buddies to the phone center and calls home. Hopefully we won't endure this for too much longer before he'll be set up with internet in his room in some other part of Far Far Away, and we'll be able to talk all the time! For now, he's hot, and he's homesick, and he forgot how much he hates the desert, but he's fine.

Expect me to report back on my return to the credit union tomorrow morning.