Our bank changed ownership. That is nothing to write home about these days, but getting check is a subject, which has become near and dear to my heart. I need checks, albeit not as many as in the past, but I need checks. I needed them, so I ordered them. I did not do it online, I did not do it over the phone; I went into the new establishment and face to face with the manager, ordered checks.
The checks arrived in a timely manner. They were in Spanish. I speak English. I took them into the bank with my old checks and said, I wanted the new ones to look like the old ones except, of course, the new bank would put their logo in place of the old one and of course it goes without saying, in English. This did not happen.
The checks arrived with my husband’s name on them, then, mine. I worked very hard for some identity, a name of my own. I want my name on my checks, I want them in English and have worked very hard all of my life in one way or another to provide the necessary items to have checks printed in English with my name on them. I await the arrival of the third set of checks. The bond fire looked hot as it burned the first two set of checks. I am thinking, should I have waited for the third set of checks before I lit the fire on the first two?
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