breaking up isn't hard to do

The divorce is over.

The sheets are split. The order is signed. Irreconcilable differences are reconciled.

For the past two months, Banamex and I have tangoed together through a deteriorating relationship. In March, I discovered that the bank had frozen my account for lack of activity (moving to mexico -- banks). After three consultations that involved signing document after document, my account was finally thawed (patience and service) last month. The thaw was far more Andropov than Ghorbachev.

The only reason I had not previously closed my Banamex account after the Obama administration's ill-informed FATCA enactment was simple. I wanted to use it as an emergency account in the event that something happened to my other bank accounts.

But, I never used it for even that limited purpose. The result was that I used up far too much time sitting and standing in the bank in an attempt to undo what I had done. Or had not done.

The solution was simple. I would withdraw my money and close my account. I had a few extra minutes on Wednesday afternoon. I decided to invest them in putting a coda on this bank story. After all, how much time could it take to simply withraw my money from my account.

The answer is: more time than I anticipated. I thought it would be as simple as running the account down to zero pesos by withdrawing the full balance. But I was wrong.

Let me cut to the punchline. After spending just under an hour talking to a teller --twice-- and to Sergio, the customer service representative -- twice, and signing several more documents, I had all of my money in hand.

A quick trip to Intercam and the money would be somewhere safe where I could access it with no problems. Well, not quite. When I stopped at Intercam, their computers were down. I needed to return the next day to deposit the money. Banks!

This was the thirteenth year that I had banked with Banamex. Most of them were good years. But we simply drew apart. It turned into one of those relationships where parting is not sweet sorrow. There is no sorrow at all. Actually, no feeling.

It is just over.