CONSTIPATED BANK

Today, while getting "safe" food (non-spicy and non-agitating) , I decided to try registering for Internet banking from one of my banks. I am not that rich to merit so many bank accounts but I get moved around so much that I collected a few bank accounts from different banks.
I am all thumbs today and still under the influence of Limotils, charcoal pills and black tea, so registering with the ATM didn't work. I decided to ask Customer Service.
I know that this particular bank is the slowest among many. Even cashing a cheque will make the paper yellow by the time you get your turn. Customer Service is no different. I suspect that this particular bank assigned the slowest people to man the Customer Service Desk. You know the type - Anjang Aki, constipated and "I have all the time in the world and you should too" kind of person.
I left after 30 minutes and tried my luck at the ATM machine again. Success this time. But when I registered online, I was told to contact the Customer Service Hotline.
After endless commercials, a live person spoke to me, asked for my particulars all over again and then put me on hold. Another round of commercials.
Finally, I was told that since my account was opened using my old identity card number and my Bank Card was issued using my new identity Card number, they could not process my registration right away. I have to register again in 2 days.
I was going to tell them that I used my old identity card number because that was the only number I had then. The new ic was not yet in existence. The fact that I am a very old customer is lost on these guys.
Anyway, what kind of computer programming couldn't match new ic numbers and old ic numbers to the person? Lots of other establishments found this not a problem at all.
With this kind of banking service, it wasn't surprising that my mom prefered to keep her money under her mattress.