I Tried American Express for a Year. Here's What Happened.

In the midst of the COVID-19 lockdown, I was presented with an appealing offer from American Express. Desperate to break the monotony of sheltering in place, I signed up. It was a shiny, new thing. I gave in.

Sadly, that was the peak of my Amex experience.

I should admit I don't lead what would be called an American Express lifestyle. I don't stay in thousand-dollar-a-night hotel suites. I don't wear tailored suits as I jet off to London or Dubai on business. I don't drive a German luxury sedan or an Italian sports car.

An internationally-known chef has never prepared my dinner. 

Am I painting a picture here?

Yes, the card featured free balance transfers and a zero-percent APR for the first year, but as someone who rarely carries a balance this was only a minor perk. The cashback bonuses were nice, but since I didn't use the card that much, they were also negligible.

Following a post-holiday review of my finances, I realized I didn't need another credit card and called American Express to cancel. This was as painless as you'd expect it to be and was confirmed by American Express in a follow-up e-mail:

“Dear La Piazza Gancio,

This message is to confirm that American Express has processed your recent request to cancel the following Card (sic) account(s):

Blue Cash Preferred ending in XXXXXX.

If you have other Card accounts registered for Manage Your Card Account online they will still be available online at americanexpress.com.

Sincerely,

American Express Customer Service”

 

It paralleled the language of the agent who had handled my request over the phone. But as I was soon to learn, American Express and I have very different definitions of 'cancelled'.

Even after cancelling the card I continued to get bills for the $95.00 annual membership fee, which I found quite strange being that I was no longer a cardholder. $95.00 for a card I no longer have? Wow. Seriously?

Assuming it was another error by a short-handed and over-worked staff, I ignored them. I mean, this was as cut-and-dried as consumer stuff gets, right? I had the card and now I don't. Why would I pay a membership fee?

Things were peachy until I was hospitalized in July. During my hospitalization a relative graciously stepped-in to take care of my bills, and when the American Express notice arrived she processed it as if it were a bill for purchases.

Only it wasn't.

I cringed. I immediately called American Express to request a refund.

The agent told me a fanciful story. One that said since the card wasn't cancelled within twenty-eight days of my last purchase, they were within their rights to apply the membership fee. Neither the agent with whom I made the initial request or the follow-up e-mail made any mention of a fee.

Nor did the small print on their monthly statements.

Even more interestingly, the following notation appears on their bills: “We have billed your annual membership fee. However if we do not receive your payment we will need to close your account due to inactivity.”

So. Let's see. I cancelled the card in January and did not pay the membership fee that month. Or in February, March, April, May and June. That's six months. It begs the question when, exactly, is an American Express account rendered inactive?

It's a cash grab—nothing more, nothing less.

I filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau September 7^th. Having heard nothing from either party regarding a resolution, I e-mailed the BBB. I was told American Express had contacted me by mail.

If by that they mean there was written correspondence on American Express' corporate letterhead within an American Express envelope sitting in my mailbox, then no. Nothing.

(I filed a second complaint via the BBB. I'll let you know what happens.)

If you enjoy doing business with corporations who issue shady and nebulous fees without explanation, then please. Apply for an American Express card today. But as gambling sites caution their customers, never bet more than you can afford to lose.

Charging a membership fee for a card that no longer exists is beyond the pale. Furthermore, I don't understand how they are able to. Why isn't this illegal?

Until I find out, do business with American Express with extreme caution. (If you're a football fan, imagine being the quarterback for the Miami Dolphins.) Who knows how many more unspoken fees lurk behind their shiny corporate exterior? 

I'm hoping the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau will be able to tell me.

Taking Stock

And I thought 2017 was bad. I have stopped watching Saturday Night Live because I no longer find Donald Trump funny. Everyday I realize anew he is an involuntarily-administered dose of the HIV virus.

In between tweeting obsessively, inserting himself into hypothetical life-or-death situations, assessing third-world countries and spending weekends in Florida, the Trump-whore has somehow managed to unplug the Environmental Protection Agency and moved to kill Planned Parenthood, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau and abolish net neutrality.

Given the incessant staff turnover and the time-consuming challenges of defending himself from innumerable investigations and law suits, it is—in its way—laudable. I'm sure Trump's predecessors are amazed at his ability to condense the demands of the presidency into a five-day work week.

But as King Donald would only be too eager to tell you, his accomplishments don't end there. (Don't tell him, but King Donald's biggest accomplishment is making George Bush number-two look like Abraham Lincoln.)

The anti-immigration president, husband to two foreign-born wives, has also installed a record number of federal judges for a first-year president. Which reminds me of a joke I heard in the early-eighties: You know what the difference is between true love and herpes? Herpes is forever.

Finally, our corporate banks are struggling—again.

It is King Donald's considered opinion that we need to take out our legislative jackhammer and break-up the regulatory speed bumps that inhibit these fine and upstanding institutions from harvesting the vast amounts of cash they feel is rightfully theirs.

Rich guys need money too, you know.

Lest you take offense to any of this, the nearest moron with a 'Make America Great Again' baseball cap will be only too happy to remind you: “He gave you a temporary tax break you ungrateful shithead! So shut the fuck up!”

This is only the tip of the iceberg. There exists so much more, with more yet to come.

A cashier at the local supermarket called me “hon" just last week. Maybe I should break into my happy dance.

Valentine's Day in March

Dear Elizabeth Warren,

I just heard you speak on The Rachel Maddow Show about Wall Street and about the corporate banks which are slowly but surely doing to us what parasitic jungle vines do to trees.

When politics doesn't resemble a tightly-scripted TV show, it's busy aping PR releases. And hearing you call out the trolls, the bullies and the vermin who infest our financial sector in your simple and direct manner was refreshing in a way I can't quite describe.

I don't remember the last time I heard a politician speak who wasn't seduced by the bottomless campaign contributions with which Wall Street routinely purchases our elected representation.

It bordered on the revelatory.

Ditto the realization that the only senator in Washington DC with the balls to stand up to them is a woman.

Look. I know it's forty-something days past Valentine's Day, but if you won't be my president will you at least be my Valentine?


Love,

La Piazza Gancio