Another Way

Some people are financially driven; I am economically pedestrian. Terrified of the stability money can buy, I prefer to stick my head in the sand whilst the go-getters and jet-setters around me spend their lives pursuing the green. I just don't swing that way man, finances bore me, savings snore me, paychecks abhor me. If I didn't have to earn a wage, if I could survive on grass and raindrops, that would suit me down to the ground. To compound my lacklust further, this week my bank has charged me yet again for dabbling in the red. A mere £8.50 overdrawn has raised the status of charges levied in the last three months to £149. For what? Nothing! How much of my money have I lent them over the years? All of it! And they can't spare £8.50?! They are absolute bastards. So did they even consult me about the deficit? Ring me up to let me know my precarious predicament? Of course not, they just rinse my account further and further of all paltry funds available. I rang them this week to register my disgust, and the conversation was cut short by their quick retort that 'I was not an important enough customer to bother with'. Their exact words! Bastards! So I threatened to close all my accounts with them. They said fine. So I did! Hah! You see! Hah! So who's laughing now eh?... Well... They are. Obviously.