Dear Wells Fargo,

You know what’s an awesome thing to do on a weekend morning? Spend 20 minutes on the phone with your clueless minion “Kathy” trying to figure out why my paycheck, which was IN MY ACCOUNT FOR THREE DAYS, is suddenly not, causing me to become ever more high-voiced and indignant until you finally, finally, transfer me to someone who can actually help, which takes all of five seconds. Great to see your dedication to customer service includes employing people who have absolutely no authority to do anything other than read back the bullshit explanation on the computer I’m staring at right fucking now. That’s a really great way to start the day.

You do not fuck with my money.

No love,



BTW, I know how the federal reserve works. Bitch.


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