My Bank Must Die

So, a few months ago, my bank introduced a new security measure on debit cards. Essentially, it made me register a password that I would need to use every time I buy something online with my card (well, most places. Amazon and PS don't need it, Domino's and Party do).

Like an idiot, I left caps lock on the first time I tried to use it and got locked out. So I phoned the number it gives you to use to unlock the code.

"... Hello."

"Yes, it's about my SecureCode on my debit card."

"Sorry, sir, what's this about?"

"The SecureCode on my debit card. The one I had to register for online to use my card to buy..."

"Oh, yes. So what is the problem, sir?"

"I locked it out by accident and would like to reset it. This is the right number, isn't it?" The woman on the other end seemed to have no clue what was going on.

"Yes sir." Oh good. "I'll need your name and address."

""

"Thank you. And now, the second and ninth letters of your secret password please..."

Um. Just so we're clear, I have no idea what that is. Did it prompt me for a password, in which case I do know what it is? Or was this one of those times when it made me answer ridiculous questions like "Favourite sandwich packaging style?"

"I don't know what that is."

"That's fine sir. Unfortunately, we can't proceed without that." Terrific.

"Can you tell me my secret question. That would help."

"No, sir, I can't." "Would you like to guess?"

This is really secure, isn't it? Would I like to guess? No I wouldn't like people guessing my fucking password.

"Is it Q and Z?" (I actually guessed something reasonable, in case you wondered. I'm more of a degenerate than a bastard)

"No, I'm sorry sir."

"That's fine. What do I do now?"

She tells me to go to the bank with some photo ID and they'll change it in person. The bank is about 5 feet from my flat, so that's no challenge. Well, it's a slight challenge, but it's near a Subway, so I'll be fine.

In the bank, talking to a middle aged, and not gracefully middle aged, faux-blonde woman with more foundation than the Pentagon (I can regonise women who wear too much foundation because I live with one):
"Hello. How can I help?"

"It's about my Secure Code?"

She looks at me like I'm a fat guy in a porn film who thinks life is full of girls who want to suck him off. "Your what?"

"The one I need to pay for stuff online. The Secure Code on my debit card."

"On your what?"

"My debit card?" I pull it out and nearly shove it up her coke-ravaged nose. I don't want this hassle, I just want to be bad at poker!

"Oh, I see. It's about the Secure Code online payment security system?" Now sh's smiling at me like I'm eight years old. And stupid.

"Yes."

"You need to call this number..."

"I called them. They said I need to talk to you because I don't know my secret password..." I'm reaching for my passport to prove I am me, and I'm not trying to steal the money.

She takes my card and types some numbers in. I haven't given her any ID yet.

"OK, sir." I'm reaching for my passport again. "You just need to type in your new password here."

So, I type in the new password and she tells me I'm good to go. I haven't shown any ID. I could have stolen this card and now all I need to do is go home and buy porn and stuff. Good to see that my local bank are, like all local companies, useless.

Happily, the woman in the bank has the last laugh. Because I haven't had my card released at all. Despite clearing my cookies and temp files and all of that, I still can't use my card.

You might wonder why I care about this now. Well, in addition to moving money to Tilt, Blue Square have a good bonus I wanted to take advantage of. But I can't. Damn you women of banking. Let me earn bonus dollars while they're still worth something!