It's the seemingly little things in life that can become the most frustrating.
Banks are the easy whipping boys mainly because most of us have to deal with them, but they bring plenty of the criticism on themselves. Much of it's levelled at the big end of town, the four Australian-owned trading banks, essentially because most of us have our accounts with them.
It's true Adrian "whiplash" Orr, the central bank Governor who looks as though he'd be more at home on the farm than in a board room, has waved the big stick at them. He's brought them into line in a number of areas, like with the self-interest sell of meaningless services to us. It's not as though they're not already creaming it, taking more than five billion bucks in profits from the pockets of Kiwis last year.
Try heading offshore with your Eftpos and take a squizz at how they're clipping the ticket when you get the printout of your ATM receipt.
In South America recently, if you could find an ATM, they'll set a piddling limit on the amount of money you can extract from the machine, meaning you'll have to go back for more in a couple of days, and they'll charge you up to 10 per cent of the withdrawal in fees.
Not only that, the card you're using will add its top-up, usually about $6 an ATM transaction, not to mention the currency conversion assessment and the foreign currency taxation fee on purchases. For what? To use an electronic machine when you've got no other choice?
If you don't like the big Aussie banks, you can always to go Kiwibank where at least the profit stays onshore. But the usual ticket punching remains the same.
Banks are easy whipping boys because we have to deal with them. Photo / Getty Images
And if you want to use plastic to buy the ticket, and you want to increase your credit limit, be prepared. Visit your local Kiwibank branch with your credit card and you're told you have to do it over the phone - the number's on the card.
Straight to the recorded message it goes: "All our operators are busy at the moment", but your business is important to them. Of course it is. So please hold the line. Half an hour later there's a human being on the line, and just when you are getting into the swing of Dave Dobbyn singing Loyal!
You're warned the call may be used for training purposes. It'd be impolite to tell them their response is being used for customer experience.
You're told increasing the limit may take 15 to 20 minutes on the phone and when you inquire whether they could do the process and phone you back you're told that you'll be required to answer questions, like whether you're on your own or with a partner, how much you both earn, how much it'd take to replace your chattels (not the value of your house curiously), and whether you have any other credit cards.
With some of them attracting interest rates on purchases of up to 26 per cent, on top of the annual fee for the privilege of using one, the plastic's far from fantastic and for most of us one is more than enough.
That inquisition complete, Dave's back on the line singing Loyal, while they check with the boffins who make the decision on whether you're a spendthrift. Just as Dave crooned for what seemed like the fifteenth time, "I can't remember last time I thanked you, Keeping my distance, Unintentionally," the inquisitor was back on the line.
The decision-makers were unavailable, they'd get back with their findings within one working day.
They did get back, wanting two years of financials through the IRD, even though they've got a banking record in front of them to show your spending habits! They finally agreed to a lower limit than requested.
It's time the bank changed its tune. Keep David Dobbyn, but replace Loyal with his hit Don't Hold Your Breath.
