Roses Are Red

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Mastermind couldn't sleep! Too many unwelcome thoughts were buzzing around like a swarm of angry wasps invading his already overwrought brain. He had been severely victimized, driven to this intolerable state. He needed revenge. He'd dedicated his life to it -every waking moment of the past four years.

; The Mastermind finally rose up from his bed. He sat slumped over his desk, waiting for the waves of nausea to pass, waiting for his goddamn hands to stop trembling. This is my pitiful life, he thought. I

f, despise it, I despise everything about it, every breath I take.

Finally, he began to write the hate mail that had been on his mind as he lay in bed. , ' Attention of the Chairman, Citibank

This is a wake-up call, and it's serious. The consequences to Citibank are dire.

You think that you're safe from the little people, but you're not safe.

My hand is shaking as I write this. My whole body trembles with outrage.

My banker is asleep at the switch. For a ‘personal banker, "she is about as impersonal as one of the gray partitions in her cubicle office. I had always thought bankers were smart, and buttoned-up. How is it possible, then, that on numerous occasions I have had annoying, insane, egregious errors made on my account?

I requested a simple transfer of money between funds: IMMA to checking. It didn't get done in a timely manner.

When I recently moved, my change of address was not handled properly. Three months have passed, and I still haven't received any of my statements. It turns out the address was never changed and my statements are going to the wrong address.

After all of these insults, after all of these mistakes by your busy-doing-nothing employees, your bank has the nerve, the gall, to deny me a personal loan. The most intolerable part is to have to sit there and listen to little Miss Princeton Priss turning me down with insincerity and condescension dripping in her voice.

I judge service organizations on a ten scale. I expect 9.9999 out of ten. Your bank fails miserably.

The little people will have their day.

He reread the letter and thought it wasn't too bad not for two-something in the morning. No, actually the letter was good.

He would do an edit, then sign, and finally deposit it in his file cabinet as he did with all the other letters. They were far too dangerous and incriminating to actually send through the federal mail system.

Goddamnit, he hated the banks with a passion! Insurance companies! Self-important investment houses! Cheeky Internet firms! The government! The big boys and girls had to go down. And they would. The little people would finally have their day.