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Joshua Alan Doetsch

~ Author & Scrivnomancer

Joshua Alan Doetsch

Tag Archives: insanity

ROYAL BANK OF CANADA: a cautionary tale

24 Friday Jan 2014

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

beware, cheat, chicanery, con, deception, financial nightmare, frustration, graft, insanity, manipulative, predatory, RBC, RBC bank, RBC Bank Canada, RBC bank US, Royal Bank of Canada, scam, skullduggery, swindle

The RBC nightmare continues…

Pull up a chair, ye sinners and saints, and listen to the whole, woeful tale…

—THE PRELUDE—
Back in May, I moved from Montreal (Canada) to Durham (USA). My Montreal bank was RBC. In preparation for the move, they helped me set up a US RBC sister account. I could transfer money from RBC US to RBC Canada. Simple enough.

My day-to-day bank here in Durham is Suntrust. When I tried, online, to transfer money from Suntrust to RBC US, I discovered RBC US has the same number of digits in their account/routing numbers as a Canadian bank. This is different than a US bank. I wasn’t able to find a way to make the transfer work, nor were the several RBC representatives I talked to. Also the US RBC has no physical locations (at least in this area), so I couldn’t even deposit cash. I’m not really sure how it functions as a US entity, except in name.

Time passes. Penalty fees mount.

I called RBC. Many times. Information in one phone call rarely matches the information I receive in the next. I asked them how to resolve this. How do I get the money (which I have) to them? I’m asking a bank to take my money. They gave me no workable solutions to get the money over the border.

Finally, I was told I can send a physical check and given an address. I mailed the check.

Time passes. Penalty fees mount.

I found out the check had been rejected and returned. I called RBC. They told me that the check was canceled on Suntrust’s end for insufficient funds. This seemed unlikely. So I drove to Suntrust to investigate. My account still had plenty of money to cover the payment and they confirmed RBC rejected the check on their end. I called RBC and received falsehoods from two people, one out of ignorance and one out of deception.

—THE IGNORANCE—
The next RBC employee told me that they received the check and the amount was credited to my account (I forget exactly how much, let’s say a $862). Oh? I said. But Suntrust just confirmed that the check was rejected. Someone from RBC even said as much earlier.

No, he said. If it were rejected, it would definitely say so on his computer. My payment went through and now I just owed $862 more on the minimum payment.

Doesn’t it seem odd, I said, that I sent a payment of $862, and, by chance, I still owed exactly as much.

There was a pause. He admited that was strange. He put me through to someone else.

—THE DECEPTION—
Another RBC employee told me that the check did arrive, but was canceled by Suntrust for insufficient funds. I said no. She said yes. I told her that I was standing in the Suntrust bank, at that moment, and they just confirmed that I have sufficient funds AND RBC was the one to reject the check.

There is a pause.

She admits that it was not due to insufficient funds and that RBC was the one to reject the check. LET’S COUNT—that’s two lies she admitted to breathing just a moment before (and these are only two that I’ve caught RBC at).

She gave me some vague category marking the check as rejected. I asked her what that means specifically. She said she did not know; checks were reviewed by someone higher up the chain. I asked if I could talk to that person. She said those people don’t communicate with customers directly. So the person I was speaking to didn’t have the information to help me, and I was not allowed to speak to the person who did.

Time passes. Penalty fees mount. Where’s our money? RBC asks me, over phone calls. I’m politely threatened with the prospect of a collection agency.

—THE WIRE TRANSFER FARCE—
I opt for a wire transfer through Suntrust. It costs me $50 a pop, but I’m desperate. RBC gives me instructions. I send the wire. It’s rejected. Costing money. I go back to Suntrust, and a helpful banker there works over the phone with RBC and manages to get the wire sent out. The funds are accepted. I’m payed up on all my back owed minimum payments.

At this point, I take out a loan so I can pay off my balance with RBC and not have to try and send money over the Canadian border anymore. I go back to Suntrust and send a final wire transfer for the remainder of my RBC balance, equivalent to $7,871.83 USD (and another $50 fee).

…you guessed it. The payment was rejected. Only this time it came back light, with only $7,165.69 returned. Where did the other $706.14 go? Suntrust calls RBC, and RBC says that the exchange rate changed drastically when they sent the money back. So, with the wire fee, I spent nearly $800 for just a chance that RBC, a bank, would accept my money. And that chance failed!

—NOW WHAT?—
So what do I do now? This has been going on since May ’13. It’s cost me many hours, much stress, lots of money (late fees, return fees, wire fees, interest, the “lost” $706, etc.). It’s severely damaged my credit—my US credit cards are all dropping my max charge amounts. This has been the bane of my year. And I’ve been willing to pay! I’ve had access to the money.

RBC keeps piling on the late fees. Is this how they make their profit? They keep sending me phone calls asking for their money—the promise of collection agencies, putting me on the defensive, like I’m the deadbeat. I try and send money to them, but they somehow thwart it at every turn. It’s like being in some abusive, manipulative relationship with an entity that just won’t let me go.

I can, with four or five mouse clicks, send money to any of my friends (across the world) via Paypal. It’s ludicrous that a financial institution can’t receive my money. Until I figure this out, I can’t send RBC any more payments. I can’t trust them not to lose several hundred dollars just like that. I can’t trust what their representatives tell me. Meanwhile, the late fees mount and my credit withers.

Anyone have any similar experiences? Anyone have any legal advice?

I’m a Big Fat Phony?

19 Monday Apr 2010

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 34 Comments

Tags

insanity, my book, myth of the sell-out, strange encounters, writing

So, I’m apparently a soulless whore trying to dupe people into buying my book…

Odd online encounter yesterday.

Chatted with a stranger. Hellos exchanged, she asked me what I was doing all the way out in Oslo and how I planned on promoting my writing (mentioned in my profile)—these are easy segues into conversation for me, and I was flattered by the interest. Then, not even a minute into the chat, things got weird…

Ambiguous phrases, things about lines one shouldn’t cross, selling one’s soul, lonely people on the internet—it all seemed out of context (especially 40 seconds into a conversation). I thought maybe she was making some sweeping commentary on the internet culture, so I gave the benefit of the doubt and tried to follow along.

Then a suspicion scuttled up my neck, that she was accusing me of something.

“Please don’t do this.”

I looked around, to make sure I hadn’t somehow sat at someone else’s computer.  I looked in the mirror, to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently metamorphosed into someone else when I wasn’t paying attention.

I said that, as far as I know, I had not sold my soul, and asked what it was she thought I was doing. But this went back and forth, going nowhere—the sort of conversation when someone accuses someone of something, but is angered further when asked what this is. Conversations like:

“There are some things you just don’t do.”
“Uh…do what?”
“You know perfectly well.”
“Let’s pretend, for a second that I don’t, and just say it.”
“Don’t deny it”
“Deny what?”

And so on.

Eventually, I was able to drag it out. Pasting the mess together in a semi-lucid order, it goes as follows:

1. My profile seemed predominately about my writing.
2. The only reason I had an online presence was to seduce lonely souls into buying my book.
3. I’d crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed, sold my soul, become a literary whore.
4. Books should succeed on their own merit.

I was stunned…nay, let’s say flabbergasted (because I like that word). It was such naked hate and disdain for another person, dressed up as a plea:  please don’t sell your soul, please don’t be a whore, please have some self-esteem.

Mind you, this doesn’t even classify high enough on the reason spectrum to be labeled a misinterpretation. There was no interpretation. This all occurred within two minutes of saying, “Hello.”

It seemed she was determined to have a dramatic confrontation with me…but she was the only one who received the script.

We can break these points down to their failing DNA, broken-helix strands (and I think I will), but let’s first take a moment to regard the most important fact:

I DO NOT HAVE A BOOK TO SELL.

I don’t.

I do have an upcoming novel that has been in drafts and on hiatus for the last 3+ years, but I have no links that lead a person to any place that involves spending money (let alone money that comes back to me).

But denying her accusations (and providing arguments about why they did not make sense) only infuriated her further and further convinced her of my guilt. Why would someone deny evil doings, if they’re not an evil doer?

No Proof is the Good Proof & Other Fallacies

So I said:

I DO NOT HAVE A BOOK TO SELL.

Hmmm, she pondered, and…aha! She pointed out that I had links to my Myspace and various blogs. To her Sherlockian credit, these facts are very true. They are so true, in point of fact, that they are true for the vast majority of the internet world. People on social sites tend to offer links or user names to other places that a person can interface with them (regardless of their occupation). Perhaps the internet is still an odd device to her and she assumes a link means it must lead to penis enlarging products.  But, again, my links don’t lead to anything to sell….and how does that go again, kids?

I DO NOT HAVE A BOOK TO SELL.

But there was no arguing these points with her. I don’t have the transcript, but she typed something to the effect of:

“Honey, I’m X years your senior. You can’t pull one over on me.”

Alright. That certainly plays to the the theme of wisdom to the elders, and in this youth obsessed world, I often agree. But while years tend to build up wisdom in a person, that wisdom is relative, and the scales change from individual to individual.

In this case, let’s break down the logical fallacy she implies:

I am older than you, therefore, my accusations against you must be true.

or

So long as I make accusations against someone younger, they will be true.

Haven’t we all been in this situation…

“You’re a shape-shifting, reptilian alien come to feast on my adrenal gland.”
“Uh…no. I’m not.”
“Honey, I have seen sixteen more winters than you. I think I’m right.”

If all your years have done is make you comfortable in your judgment, to the point that you no longer question your assumptions (or even investigate them in a coherent manner), then they have not sharpened that judgment.

Some people think they are extra clever, shrewd, or insightful if they utter phrases like, “Yeah, right,” or “Give me a break,” a lot. It’s so easy to accuse and run…and then live under the assumption that your intuition is infallible (because reality has never had to test it).

Even if I had books to sell, and I mentioned them, how does that imply that it’s the sole reason I’m socializing on the net?  Why can’t a person be there to socialize, but also just happen to be a writer by profession?  Certainly it’s possible a stranger’s only interest is to sell you a book…but how would you know that off the bat?  Shouldn’t you talk a bit and observe this person to gauge their character?

But there are those who don’t actually want to put in that effort.  People are so desperate to believe they have strong intuition.  Every.  Single.  Person.  “Good judge of character” is one of the most common, self-proclaimed traits.  It’s right up there with “open-minded” and “good sense of humor”.

Personally, I think it is very telling that she could not conceive of a scenario in which a stranger would want to talk to her without first having some nefarious purpose.  But then…perhaps I just want to believe I have deep intuition and sharp eyes.

My Nefarious Purpose
And just why do I blog and lurk about the net?

I’ve written blogs (on LiveJournal, Myspace, etc.) for almost 8 years.  It’s a habit I enjoy.  But what is the insidious original purpose of my blog?  You’ll have to go back to the first post to find out…

MY FIRST BLOG

There you have it. The start of grad school and what I had for lunch. Pretty sinister stuff.

And why else would I blog and twitter and such? Let us count the ways:

-keep in touch with loved ones far away and let them know what I’m up to (makes living on another continent easier)

-express some tough feelings when I’m far away (like when my GRANDPA DIED)

-occasionally flirt (I have no medical degree but am convinced flirtation keeps the heart palpitating)

-meet strangers for interesting conversations

-meet strangers to learn a joke I’ve never heard

-speak with other artists of other discplines (useful if you have interests in collaborative efforts like comic books and movies)

-experience view points from places I’ve never been

-get in touch with folks in new places I am going to (like Norway)

-naked curiosity

-advise and shop talk from other writers

This is just to name a few. And yes. I will mention things I’m working on, dammit. I’m proud of what successes and mistakes I can eek out from the long night of self-doubt. I’ll strut it a bit, when I can, and tell Mom and Dad to post it on the old refrigerator.

Greed Is Not the Dwarf of the Seven Deadlies Hiding Under My Bed
This lady barked at the wrong flashlight. Greed has never been my bag. I don’t mean to say my virtue is beyond reproach, but Greed implies a more practical mindset than I posses. Lust and Sloth always came easier to me and they are the ones I have to watch out for.

What does the Joker say?

“I’m just a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it.”

I caught one once and ended up in Oslo, and I’m still disoriented, tongue hanging out of my mouth.

No, if sales and fame were my prime motivator, I would not be writing fiction. I would be pumping out self-help guides and inventing religions for celebrities to follow. Perhaps, in my declining years, I will.

The Myth of the Sell-Out

I could stop there, but in her short rant, she implied that an author promoting their work was somehow an act of soulless prostitution. There exists a certain myth in the mass minds, even a subconscious predisposition to feel that an artist passing their hats around or making a living is somehow despicable, or at least, less than genuine to their art.

This is presumptuous bullshit.

It is a myth.

It doesn’t even make much sense and quickly dies under the light. Really this is a topic that belongs in its own blog post, but I feel it insults a number of friends and acquaintances of mine, who do share their wares, and who are not prostitutes and indeed have souls (great big bright ones full of swimming koi speaking enlightening riddles).

OK, break it down to brass tacks–this is how art/entertainment works: it does not fully exist until it has an audience to perceive it—it is the act of communication—the act of telling others about something and spreading it.  THAT’S HOW IT WORKS! This is not an ambiguous concept.

What did she say?

“A book should succeed on its own merits.”

Sounds good…but that doesn’t actually happen until someone reads it. Did I just have to explain that? Really? A book of merit doesn’t magically appear on someone’s shelf.

I guess she must think that the highest virtue a writer can aspire to, is to write a book without telling anyone about it, then locking it away in a dark safe, and let it sit there and succeed on its own merit…and then lying about their occupation to others, or at least refusing to say.

“What do you do for a living?”
“Can’t tell you…I don’t want to be a soulless whore.”

Does this smell at all like insanity?

And how come artists and entertainers exist in the only profession plagued by this myth and prejudice? No one else is ever made to feel bad for earning a living. If someone on Facebook mentions that they are a plumber in their profile, they don’t get told:

“Oh…so you’re just trying to get me to buy your plumbing expertise. You sell out! What happened to you? You sold your soul and your self-esteem to the machine. It used to be about the pipes, man! I bet you don’t even feel any passion when you pick up a plunger anymore. You dirty pipe-whore.”

Of course, if anyone is a plumber, and this has happened, tell me and I will share your pain. Cheers.

Do you know what horrible thing happens when an artist makes a living?  They have more time to work on, explore, and hone their art.

Sinister!

All of this, of course, only has passing relevance to my particular encounter because, again:

I HAVE NO BOOK TO SELL.

The Big Fat Ending

That’s all.

I probably shouldn’t have acknowledged this bit of crazy with even this much typing…but it just stuck in my craw for some reason. Maybe it was because I was suffering a hangover yesterday and extra sensitive to bad vibes directed at me. That rouses the harsh-grinning, sardonic side of me to rise up and try and protect the little child within (who is now injured and crying on his blanky, thank you very much).

Rather than say anymore, I’ll just sum up that strange, short encounter with this video:

There.

Anything else to say?

Oh yeah…BUY MY BOOK.

Ode to…uh…what was I saying?

08 Friday Jan 2010

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

insanity, jet-lag

Oh Jet-lag,
Oh Jet-lag,
You make me insane

Oh Jet-lag,
Oh Jet-lag,
Give me back my brain!

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