screwed
I never felt particularly inclined to go to Northampton. So i didn’t. These two simple facts became particularly important a couple of days ago, when i dared to check my bank statement and discover I’ve spent £450 in it’s local Tesco emporium over the past few weeks. Or rather, my friendly bankers thought I had done, and had debited my account accordingly. Goddam bankers. Though I was shocked, I stayed calm, cancelled my cards, made enquiries. The fraud seemed a simple matter, if of rather alarming proportions considering my meagre income. So I left it in the trusty hands of my friendly bankers, whose name I shan’t name, those wishing to identify them would perhaps be able to from their astounding ability to be local and international at once.
Waking up this morning, I realised that in the past couple of days I had missed some calls from my friendly bankers. Better ring em up, I thought. I never expected them to have completely failed to cancel my cards when they said they had, allowing the fraudsters to just carry on defrauding me as if I neither knew nor cared. Having assured me that the matter was now dealt with, the kindly banker offered me a loan at a charming rate of 8.8% to carry me through to the calm waters of post-fraud bliss. Goddam bankers.
