Computer says no!

Ever feel that you are trapped in a TV sketch? That happened to me yesterday.

I needed to transfer some money abroad, and I phoned my bank to check what identification they would require. ‘Driving licence or passport’ I was told.

So I made the journey to my branch, where, standing at a podium (who designs modern bank interiors?), the member of staff rattled off a list of requirements in a tone of voice which implied that she had heard it all before, I wasn’t going to get away with this, what gave me the impression I deserved good Customer Service etc. Having phoned not half an hour beforehand, I in turn gave confident affirmative replies to her string of questions including account number of the receiving bank? Yes. Postal address of the bank? Yes. IBAN number? Yes. Driving licence? Yes. Driving licence counterpart? Pardon?

‘We need the paper part of your driving licence, not just the card.’ She said with triumphant relief that she had been right all along. ‘You mean that the Government-produced card with two photos of me, my address and signature are not sufficient ID?’ (Not to mention my bank account card, also with signature of course.) ‘A driving licence is in two parts, and you have brought only one part with you. It would be different if you had the old style driving licence.’ That’s the kind without a photo.

Was I in Little Britain, where the passive-aggressive assistant invariably finds that the customer can’t have what he or she has asked for, because ‘Computer says no’ (followed by a cough in the face). Or was I in One Foot in the Grave?

‘I don’t believe it,’ I actually found myself saying. I have been a customer of the bank for over 25 years. I had two forms of identification, and everything else I needed. But no, they had to see the bit of paper which says what classes of vehicles I am entitled to drive, and whether I have any motoring convictions. A requirement which had not been mentioned when I specifically asked on the phone.

I had no option but to return home and fetch it, by which time the cutoff had passed so my money will be a day late arriving in my overseas account.

I can remember as a child going with my mum to the local bank where she could write herself a cheque and the clerk would hand over the cash because he recognised her. That was the system. How simple life was back then!