A 98 year old woman wrote this to her bank. The bank manager thought it
amusing enough to have it published in the New York Times.

Dear Sir:
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored to
pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three 'nanoseconds' must have
elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account
of the funds needed to honor it.  I refer, of course, to the automatic
monthly deposit of my entire retirement check, an arrangement which, I
admit, has been in place for only eight years. You are to be commended for
seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account
$30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank.

My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me
to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I personally
attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try to contact you, I am
confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity
which your bank has become.  From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal
with a flesh-and-blood person.  My mortgage and loan payments will therefore
and hereafter no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank by check,
addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you
must nominate.  Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any
other person to open such an envelope.  Please find attached an Application
Contact Status which I require your chosen employee
to complete.  I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as
much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative.
Please note that all copies of his or her medic al history must be
countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her
financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be
accompanied by documented proof.  In due course, I will issue your employee
with a PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me.  I regret
that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modeled it on
the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on
your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of
flattery.

Let me level the playing field even further. When you call me, press buttons
as follows:
    1-- To make an appointment to see me.
    2-- To query a missing payment.
    3-- To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
    4-- To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
    5-- To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
    6-- To transfer! the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
    7-- To leave a message on my computer. (a password to access my computer
is required. A password will be communicated to you at a later date to the
Authorized Contact.)
    8-- To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
    9-- To make a general complaint or inquiry, the contact will then be put
on hold, pending the attention of my automated  answering service.

While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will
play for the duration of the call.  Regrettably, but again following your
example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of
this new arrangement.

May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous, New Year.

Your Humble Client


(Remember: This was written by a 98 year old woman)
JUST GOTTA LOVE SENIORS