The Break-Up
For ending an eight-year relationship, I imagined a little drama, a little regret. But the reality of closing my checking account today with Bank of America after becoming annoyed with the idea of debit card fees (even though they won’t be imposed) ended up being one of the most anti-climatic endings of my life.
When I told my teller I wanted to close my account, no “why are you leaving me” questions were poised. In fact, no questions were asked at all either before or after the teller looked into my account. It was just over — almost instantly. I got more love from Crunch, the gym, when I pulled the plug on my membership. The gym manager had tried to woo me with a better pricing plan; BofA didn’t even try to tempt me to stay nor even inquire about my parting. The indifference was, well, remarkable.
Despite the pervasive, it’s-hard-to-quit-your-bank talk, my experience leads me to believe that severing banking ties doesn’t have to be a biggie. Granted, I have limited bill pay ties to BofA and I already had another checking account that I used regularly, my experience in killing the BofA account was simple and almost refreshing. The beauty of not having a meaningful relationship with your banking partner is that there are no hard feelings, no goodbyes required. Heck, there was barely any paperwork. Next time I decide my bank isn’t worth keeping, I’m happy to have learned this lesson. Finding fresh banking meat to me is akin to getting an oil change: not necessarily fun, but easy to execute. From an FI perspective, though, I’m concerned about how banks are evaluating, or rather not evaluating, why customers are quitting them. I imagine such data is key to solid customer service, and I wonder how many bank break-ups go undocumented or uninvestigated. Not knowing why someone is leaving you could cost a bank a lot.
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