How Bank of America gave away my money
TLDR: Bank of America is a horrible business and it should be ashamed by how bad it is.
Two weeks ago, I suddenly received emails informing me that my Bank of America account was overdrawn. Confused, I logged onto my online banking account to discover that all my money (more than $3,400) had disappeared from both my saving and checking accounts. Not only were the balances stripped clean, I had outstanding fees and my checking account had gone negative as a result. My heart sank and my first thought was that my personal computer had been compromised somehow. What actually happened turned out to be in some ways worse and this is the story of how I found myself in an absurdist bureaucratic nightmare straight out of the movie Brazil. Best of all, it’s almost entirely Bank of America’s fault. This is the story of how I pieced it all together.
Scarlet Letters
A closer examination of my bank statements revealed that I had received two legal orders. These are writs of executions issued by a court to collect monetary judgments and fines. Immediately, this two innocuous lines told me that I was not the victim of hacking. However, the mystery only deepened. Since I have never been party to a law suit, this was puzzling. Surely it had to be a mistake?
To add insult to injury, Bank of America refused to include a copy of the legal order in the online statement and informed me in crimson red text to visit a banking center or “try again later”. Spoiler: It turns out that neither of those two recommended courses of action was the right one. To this day, the notice is not available on my online account, so “trying again” was never going to do anything. The instructions might as well have said, “fuck off”.
Catch-22
A few days later, duly following instructions, I took time off work to go to my local branch to speak face-to-face to a “Relationship Manager”.
“Oh, you can see that in your online account,” she said with a smile.
“But…the notice told me to visit a banking center…” I was confused.
“Well, that’s odd. We do not have access to your notices here.” She was confused too. “Did you make sure to log on to the full desktop website?”
At this point in my adventure, I knew that Bank of America is not a bank that had its shit together and that it was entirely my fault that I entrusted my money to this two-bit operation. Instead of screaming my lungs out as any reasonable person is entitled, if not morally obligated, to do in the same position, I patiently logged on to my online banking account in front of her and showed her exactly the red glowing text where her unsympathetic faceless corporate overlords had constructed a paradoxical catch-22 for the both of us to ponder.
“Look, it says right here in red that I should come to see you in person.”
“Hmmm… I guess it does.”
Upon checking twice to make sure reality remained consistent and that the Matrix had not rebooted, she finally accepted the undeniable fact that the instructions she had faithfully repeated were utterly useless, picked up her phone, and called the legal department. After a few brief words, she reached for a sticky pad and started taking down some notes. Hanging up the phone, she turned back to me and said, “The order came from the LA Sheriff’s Department. Here’s the number you should call.”
I walked out of the Palo Alto banking center more confused than I entered. Not only had my money been taken by the judicial system, it was not even a jurisdiction that I had ever worked or lived in! Did I accidentally leave behind some unpaid parking tickets during my brief visit to BlizzCon in Anaheim which somehow snowballed into more than $3,400 in fines? That’s ridiculous. A million scenarios ran through my head, each more absurd than the last.
It was already too late in the day to call the LASD. I went online to the department’s website, but the case lookup tool was returning database errors, apparently because the administrator turns off the database server every night for “maintenance”. I resigned to sending the department an email through their website’s 1990s feedback form.
Untimely Notice
A few days later, after Bank of America had already given away my money, I finally received a legal notice in the mail warning me that it was going to do so and that I should get the sheriff’s department to rescind the order before the transfer went through. Just a bit too late, I suppose. The bank clearly could not afford to email or call me in a timely fashion before taking all my money. The physical notice contained some additional (interesting) details:
- The case number VDS1412668
- 5060 MONTCLAIR PLAZA LANE vs. DRAGON GATE OR, LLC is the case name
- The total amount levied was for $152,329.53! Thank God my credit union was infinitely more competent than the buffoons at Bank of America.
It felt like good news. After all, I am absolutely certain that I have no relationships to the defendant named in that case. I deserve my money back. Surely the legal system will protect my rights?
The Sheriff’s Department
With renewed confidence, I called the LASD’s Court Services Division the next day. A lady with a slight accent answered my call.
“Hi, I am calling because my bank received a legal order from LASD and wired my money. However, I looked up the case name and I have absolutely no relations to the defendant named in the order.”
“What is your case number?”
“VDS1412668.”
“Are you Chang?”
“Yes, but you realize that is a really common Chinese name.”
“Is your last name Jiang?”
“Yes, but again… Look, my full name is Chang Xing Jiang. First name Chang Xing and last name Jiang.”
“So it’s not Chang Jiang?”
“No!” Because clearly people here cannot grasp the idea that someone’s first name can contain a space.
“Is the last four digit of your SSN not 5189 (not the actual digits)?”
“No! It’s 5168! Are you telling me that they could not even match the social security number and yet felt confident wiring thousands of dollars based on a partial name match?” At this point, I felt almost compelled to pull the racism card. Yes, I understand that Chinese names all look alike when romanized, but how hard was it to realize that the SSNs were different!
“Uhh… hold on I need to talk to my superior. Could you hold?”
A few minutes later, she came back with the bad news. “Why didn’t you call earlier? It’s too late for us to withdraw the request. The money was already sent to the court! You need to go down to the courthouse and ask them to show you the court documents.”
“And where might that be?”
“247 West 3rd Street. San Bernardino.” As in, San Bernardino in Southern California. I live 6 hours away in Northern California.
“Right. Of course. Thanks.”
The Court
I searched online and found a number for the courthouse. After twenty minutes of fiddling around with the automated menu and waiting in line, I finally found myself speaking to a human clerk.
“Hi, I am calling because my bank received a legal order from LASD and blah blah blah…”
“What is your case number?”
“VDS1412668.”
“Which defendant are you? There are many defendants named.”
“Well I am not him or her, but I think the name is Chang Jiang.”
“Ah, yes, I see you. Yes, unfortunately if you would like to challenge the payment you would need to file a motion to the court.”
“But I am not one of the defendants!”
“I am sorry sir. I am just a clerk. We are not allowed to provide you with legal advice.”
“Okay, so I need to find a motion?”
“Yes, but I cannot advice you on what kind of motion to file. I suggest you look online or engage a lawyer.”
“And it is okay for me to file a motion even though I am not actually party to this lawsuit at all?”
“I am sorry, I cannot give you legal advice. But you can definitely try to look online. Or call legal aid.”
“Okay, which one?”
“Where are you, sir?”
“Menlo Park, California. I am in Northern California, not Los Angeles.”
“I only have the legal aid number for San Bernardino. Please look online.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Legal Aid
“Hi, I am calling because my bank received a legal order from LASD and blah blah blah…”
“Sorry, where do you live?”
“Menlo Park.”
“You should call the San Mateo county legal aid.”
“Alright.”
San Mateo Legal Aid
“Hi, I am calling because blah blah blah…”
“Where do you live?”
“Menlo Park.”
“How old are you?”
“28.”
“Ah, you should call this lawyer referral service run by the bar association. Here’s their number.”
“Okay…”
San Mateo Bar Association
“Hi, I am calling because blah blah blah…”
“Yes, great. So what we do here is match you with one of our members for a $30 fee which guarantees you a 30-minute conversation. What happens afterwards is between the two of you.”
“Okay that sounds good to me.”
“Where did you say the court was located?”
“San Bernardino.”
“Ahhh… Our members do not practice there. You might want to try the Santa Clara or Los Angeles bar association.”
“And they offer the same referral service?”
“Yes, they have similar services but I do not know their fees.”
“Okay.”
Santa Clara Bar Association
I fiddled around with the automated menu. Finally found the right option.
“Our call center is closed today. Our operation hours are 8am to 5pm from Monday to Friday. Please…”
I looked at my phone. It was 2pm on a Tuesday. Figures.
Los Angeles Bar Association
“Hi, I am calling because blah blah blah…”
“How much are you looking to recover?”
“$3,400.”
“Unfortunately, that amount is too low for our lawyers to be concerned with. I suggest you try legal aid.”
“@#%@$^#”
Conclusion
At this point, I hold very little hope that I will ever see my money again. On the LASD website, which is finally working, I can see that the next pending payout for the case is exactly all the money Bank of America gave away from my account minus legal fees. It’s right there, seemingly within my grasp, but somehow the legal system has constructed a perfectly circular Escher puzzle which always manages to present the illusion of an impossible solution just barely out of sight.
It seems to me that Bank of America did not perform due diligence in releasing my money. The only notice it provided me was sent through physical mail, which arrived too late to matter. Despite the fact that it had both my email address and phone number and a very secure online channel through which it could send me notifications, it chose a mean of communication that is neither reliable nor timely. It feels almost as if, in its eagerness to satisfy the legal order and be rid of the problem, Bank of America would rather not hear back from me.
Finally, I have confirmation from the LASD that neither the full name nor the SSN of the defendant in question matched the personal details associated with my bank accounts. The defendant’s listed mailing address was in Oregon, a state that I had never lived in. Having investigated this frustrating incident, I question the basic competency of Bank of America as an institution. If you are ethnically Chinese or have a name that can be easily confused, I suggest you do not use Bank of America.
Update: It turns out that writing a blog post works better than talking to the bank representatives beyond simple catharsis. I received a call from someone on Bank of America’s social media team who credited the money back to my account. Thanks everyone for all the great suggestions here!
