Bank of the West

Terrible. I stopped into this location a couple months ago to inquire about opening a new account. I sat there waiting… and waiting… and waiting… and waiting… for at least an hour for a rep to assist me. They were NOT busy, either. I ended up getting up and leaving. I wasn’t even acknowledged or apologized to for the continued wait. F-​, folks. Steer clear of this bank, particularly this branch.

Wouldn’t allow me to deposit money because of misspelling of name on check although another branch has allowed it for 6 months. They are disrespectful and lack any flexibility in their Rules. Go here if you want a BIG banking experience without the big bank benefits.

These are not smart people. Apparently the check I was trying to deposit was a check I wrote to myself, becase she couldn’t fnd me in their system. My name isn’t BLAH BLAH. Its Millie, as in look at the deopsit slip. Duh.

My bank rocks my socks. Not as much as money really gets my motor going, but the institution I trust to handle my money is also quite nifty. Here’s why:
*Front of my ATM card has bears. Not plushy teddy bears with symbols on their chests, but a mama grizzly and two cubs. Everyone needs a card to express the always pertinent statement: Don’t mess with my money, yo.
*Back of my ATM card says Shazam. With a lightning bolt. That’s right.
*Almost all across the board, save for one ulcer-​inducing day with a representative at the Old Town branch, the employees are really nice. They never give you that condescending eyebrow pop when you think there’s something amiss with your checking account but the problem is really just your broke-​ass-​ness. Back when I had to call irate financial peons for payoff statements, Bank of the West notoriously forced you to wait longer for said statements. But I called and explained a rush order to a particularly sweet representative and got a payoff statement by the next day. Yes, I got moves, but this happened largely because the person on the line was a gem.
*Today I ordered new checks. I made an unwise choice of check backgrounds when I last ordered. Think cameos, buttons, and pink roses — Grandma Chic, if your grandmother happened to be the pearl-​clutching, inheritance-​withholding kind. I held up my existing checks to the teller, said, «No more of this. I’m not seventy,» and he was all, «You got it, Kim.» And I was all, «True.»
* The drive-​through machine camera has some very compromising surveillance photos of me. I mean, I love my bank. They need more ATMs so I can avoid having to pull a stretchy McGee while wearing a skirt, but I’m sure someone’s happy about that footage.