Monday, November 28, 2011


A few months ago, a neighbour who shares my postcode phoned to say that he had a letter for me, addressed to his house. I picked it up and it turned out to be a letter from a major bank confirming the opening of my new account. It soon became clear that this was an attempted fraud. I contacted the bank and put them in the picture, and I thought that was the end of it.
Unfortunately the bank placed a marker on my credit record that has had the effect of making it nigh-on impossible to be accepted by the financial industry. Today I attempted to set up a new mobile phone account online, and subsequently wasted an hour and a half attempting to prove by emailing documents that I live in the house that I own. I was given three different accounts to email, each of which rejected my efforts.
It must have been like this in Honecker's East Germany, in the grip of a system that won't listen. I won't even mention Kafka.

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