GUEST COLUMNIST: Freshmen won't bank on PNC

Micah Westerman Micah WestermanI'd like to tell you about the best day of my life. But first, I have to start with the worst. Aug. 5, 1997. My life would never be the same. Five to 10working days is what she said. A new checking account in a new city? What better way to start off a college education than that? Somebody had to pay for books. So, when two weeks had come and gone, and I had not received word from PNC that my account was active, I gave them a call. "Well, Mr. Westerman, it seems as if your account was? well, sir, it was never even opened." So, back to the drawing board we went. I resupplied the bank with all of the necessary information, and five to 10 days later, I had still received nothing. If what the bank representative meant to say was "five to 10 working weeks," then I should have been pleasantly surprised to receive my MAC card and checks on September 15, six weeks after originally ordering them. And I should have been even more surprised to see that instead of 50 free checks, I was sent 200, and charged a mere $18.75. I was not pleased. I called the bank, and the woman I spoke to courteously attempted to handle my problem. She assured me the $18.75 was an accident, and would be instantly credited to my account. It was, and I went about my merry way. School was good, I made some friends and my bank truly cared about me. What more could a freshman ask for? Two days later, September 17, I deposited approximately $400 into my account; not only was I going to pay my credit card bills, I was going to give those cards a little exercise. And where better to do it than The Book Store? Like a kid in a candy shop, I bought everything in sight. So when I got back to my room, I paid my previous month's bills, so as not to accumulate bad credit. Little did I know that PNC had other plans for me. When I went to withdraw money from the MAC machine, my card was denied. When I checked my balance, however, I noticed that my total was -$38.00. Something was wrong. I called PNC, (by the way, I'd like to thank the folks there for keeping me on hold for 45 minutes; I had never before heard the entire Debbie Gibson CD.) and I was told I never made a deposit for $400 in the first place. When I was told that I had to come in to show the representative my receipt, I gladly agreed. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. At this point, I would like to once again thank those at PNC; I have never read the March 1984 issue of Architectural Digest 39 times before. About an hour later, I was seen. Maintaining her courteous, yet incompetent demeanor, the customer service representative explained to me the bank had once again made an error. But it was already too late. Both of my checks had bounced, and my account was more than $200 in debt. The bank assured me it would process my money as soon as possible, and they would send letters to the credit card companies accepting full responsibility. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I was reading through letter after letter from the credit card companies, hoping that every time there was a knock at my door, it wasn't a Visa representative sent to break my legs. About a week passed, and finally, the letter from PNC arrived. I was so relieved? but I should have known better. "We are sorry, Mr. Westerman, but you are behind $120 in late check payment fees. If we do not receive this money?" I was ready to kill someone. I called the bank yet again. "Paperwork problem, Mr. Westerman. Not your fault Mr. Westerman. Go away and never come back Mr. Westerman," blah, blah, blah. And forgetting the fact this wasn't my fault, even if I had bounced the checks, PNC charged me double the returned check fee on both of them. It's like dealing with the Planet of the Apes, but a little less civilized. Finally, the money was put back into my account, the charges were all dropped, and the letters were sent out to my credit card companies noting PNC's full responsibility for my problems. Almost three months later, the hell that was my life seemed to be coming to an end, which brings us to the present. Today. The happiest day of my life. For today, I, Micah Westerman closed my account at PNC Bank. It was the happiest day of my life. It could be yours, too.