It is night. I am trying to drive south on US 101. D. is with me in the car. It's raining, the traffic is heavy. The road keeps on getting narrower and narrower, and we find ourselves on surface streets, forced off the highway in a detour. I cannot immediately recognize where we are, but we keep on driving fast, at highway speed, along the dark, wet city streets. The lane markings are erratic and changeable, and it takes all my concentration to avoid other vehicles as they wind up suddenly in our lane. Eventually we seem to be in San Francisco on Judah Street, heading west toward the Great Highway, where we will turn south to go down the coast. It is the middle of the night and there is no local traffic on the street, just the hordes of cars diverted from the highway on the dark, wet pavement, crowded together on a route not designed to handle this volume of traffic, driving like mad.
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My bank will no longer accept direct deposit of my Social Security disability benefits. They are refusing to deal with the "hassle" of it. It is a newly-opened account, and I have trouble remembering the name of the bank. I keep looking at my checkbook, but instead of the name of the bank, it is just a text-free logo, a meaningless abstract image. Instead of my account number along the bottom of my checks there are only little blank rectangles, like boxes on a form waiting to be filled in.
I go into the branch and demand to speak with someone about this, and they are all playing dumb. All they will tell me is that the bank cannot accept the money anymore and I have to find another bank that would be willing to take it. I tell them that all the automatic payments linked to my account will now be NSF, and they don't care. I am very angry and I begin raising my voice. I tell them that there is no justification on earth for refusing to accept direct deposit of my Social Security disability benefits. I tell them that my husband and I were going to apply for a mortgage with them, but after this there is no way; if they don't want all those thousands upon thousands of dollars from us as we repay the loan, then that will be their loss. Other customers in the bank are beginning to turn their heads with curiosity to see what the commotion is. I assume the bank does not want the bad publicity, especially for rejecting a disabled person, but the bank employees' faces remain blank and emotionless, and they just shrug their shoulders and refuse to deal with it, and in the end I am left rejected without and explanation, and on my own.