Dear Broadway Bank,
Why, hello! I just wanted to drop you a quick line to say “Welcome to the neighborhood!” (Note: I’m not the “official” new neighbor greeter or anything, so this is all you’re getting. Do not expect muffins.)
All of us over here in the subdivision have been rather eagerly watching your building go up these past few months. Of course, most of us assumed that once it was completed, it would either be yet another church or the 47th Walgreen’s pharmacy in our 2-mile radius. (Because when we Texans aren’t praying, we’re apparently filling prescriptions and getting our film processed, y’all.)
So imagine our surprise when we heard that there was a brand-new bank branch opening just across the street. “Wow!” we all said. “A new bank? Does that take big, swinging balls in this economy or what?! Don’t those people ever read the newspaper? Ha, ha, ha! For the love of God, nobody has any money left these days! Not even the well-established pimps!” (What can I say—we’re big kidders around here.)
Now, as banking professionals, you obviously know that the first order of business is to attract new customers who’ll put their precious greenbacks into those cute, little vaults of yours. And my kudos to you for knowing that the best way to do this is via friendly letters letting local residents know about the great things you’re offering.
However, while I’m no banking expert—I mean, up until last year, I thought FDIC meant “Free Doughnuts If Catholic”—I do have one major piece of advice for you: When sending out your two-page letters, you might want to make sure that the people on your mailing list are 1) Alive and/or 2) Not in Kindergarten.
Yesterday, we received two envelopes from you, but for some reason, neither one of them was addressed to me or my husband (aka The Living People Who Earn Money). Instead, one was addressed to my father-in law:
Who has been deceased for over five years and is most likely no longer interested in Free Bill Pay.
And the second one was addressed to my son Jack:
Who was really excited to get something in the mail, but unfortunately for you, he’s 6-years-old and the only thing he has to deposit is a Nerf gun and his collection of rather sticky LEGOs. (Although they’re probably worth a lot more than my 401K, so be sure to tell me if the new banking regulations let you accept plastic toys as currency. Something tells me they just might.)
So, Broadway Bank, it looks like your new branch is off to a rather rough start, but I do wish you the best. Lord knows we’d all like to see you do well and thrive in our neighborhood. But just know that if you work hard, act friendly, and revise the ever-loving hell out of that lame-ass mailing list, you’ll be off to a good start. And if times ever do get tough, at least you’ll be able to head on over to the closest Walgreen’s.
I hear they’re building one right next door to the new church.