I went into a bank to open a CD the other day.
I sat down with an employee and he confirmed the rate I’d already heard about.
But he then informed me that because I’m a “premier customer” — ta-da! — I’m entitled to a special rate if I’d only agree to open a checking account there, too.
I didn’t really need a checking account, but I figured what the heck, I’ll do it just to get the higher rate.
“So what is that rate, pray tell?” I wondered, expecting something really significant.
He fidgeted on his computer and tried to look super-efficient, looking like he wished I’d never asked.
And then he finally had to admit it was the same exact rate he’d quoted me before!
“Huh???” I declared, eyeballs flaring.
“So the big benefit of my being a ‘premier customer’ is that I get to open a checking account that I don’t want (but naturally you do), just so I can get the same exact rate everyone else gets?” I announced, extremely proud of my bad self.
“This is bullshit!”
Premier this, bitch.