My son received a new phone for his birthday. His phone number changed so after set up and before handing it off, I messaged all his contacts alerting them of his new number. Accidentally, my mom’s (his grandmother’s) number was included in the texts. A minute or so later, my mother’s number responded “Wrong number.”
In this same week, I went to the bank to cash my modest little check so that I could get some cash to fill my gas tank. My employer issues Wells Fargo checks. I use the account I shared with my mom (and now former step dad) to cash the check so that I don’t have to pay the $7 fee. The teller asked me to re-insert my ATM card and to retry my pin. Maybe I punched in the wrong number? I did what he asked. He then delivered the news I’d been dreading but expecting.
“It seems this account has been closed.”
Wells Fargo did not care about the news they’d just delivered. They did not know the reason or significance of that account. They did not care that this account was opened and maintained to help my family and I when we needed it or when my mom wanted to treat my children to something special. They did not care to know of my mother’s heart, generosity, and kindness. They wanted their seven.fucking.dollars. Period.
I did not cry. I explained to the manager that I needed her to waive this fee this one time. I pointed out the amount of the check I was attempting to cash. I assured her I would not return. She asked me how I could not have known that my account was closed.
Life.
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