You can’t bank on me

Suddenly, bank agents have stopped cold calling me for loans and credit cards. I reckon it’s not so much because of the Central Bank guidelines as it’s because of the conversation I have had with them lately.

“Hello Sir, Our bank has a brand new promotion wherein we are offering up to Dh250,000 in personal loans to people like you. There’s hardly any paper work required. It’s completely hassle free. You should not miss this fantastic opportunity. The offer is valid for just a few days,” an agent chirruped excitedly over the phone.

“What a coincidence, I am in Dubai for a few days too. I have booked a one way ticket to Hawaii Islands and this loan would be just about perfect to start a hassle-free new life. So how do I go about availing this fantastic opportunity?” I asked testily.

I guess I know why banks call them ‘personal loans’. Last year I missed a couple of payments and boy, did they get personal!

Like most of us, bank agents have a job. And if their job description requires them to sweet-talk people into signing up for loans and credit cards, so be it. Frankly, I have nothing against that. But when some of these agents try to get pally with me at 8am on a weekend, well that’s another thing.

“Good morning, this is Ahmad from XXX bank, how are you doing today, sir? “I am not too well, could you call back later, please,” I groaned burying my face deeper under my pillow.

Apparently, this gentleman was taught not to take no for an answer.

“What happened, sir? he asked, sounding concerned.

“It’s nothing much, really,” I replied. “I have this impulsive aggression personality disorder that worsens during summers. The other day I ordered pizza but the delivery guy showed up so late, I got agitated and bit off his ear. Anyway, the doctors have put me under psychiatric care. I am taking mood-stabilizing pills. They seem to be working fine, but there’s a problem. I have run out of the medicines and am feeling slightly restless today, but it’s alright. You are offering a free-for-life credit card, aren’t you? So why don’t you come over at 4pm and discuss it with me in detail? Just one small thing, make sure you are there on time.”

Agents who hounded me with outstanding balance transfer requests were dealt with similarly.

“Sir, do you have any outstanding balance that you’d like us to take care of?” an agent enquired

“Certainly. Dh350 at the grocery, Dh115 at the laundry and .. let me remember, oh, yes Dh20 at the barber. I went to my ATM to clear these dues but it said ‘insufficient funds’ Now I am not sure if it’s them or me.”

Then there was this husky-voiced fund manager who had some elaborate investment plans for me. “We have several high yielding financial schemes. If you could tell me your current take home salary, I will work out an attractive option for you,” she said.

Anyone who’d heard that voice would be naturally inclined to boast.

Not me. I am made of sterner stuff. Twice I turned her down. But she remained persistent. The next time she called me I told her politely: “You are chasing the wrong guy, Maam I am so poor... I have beans for breakfast, water for lunch, then I’d swell up for dinner.”

I haven’t heard from her since.