with KEITH FORT

WHEN I first opened my bank account in the mists of the mid 1900s I used to dread having to call every Friday to deposit my weekly pay cheque (yes, we were paid weekly then, usually in cash).

This was not because of the interminable queues (what queues?)

It was because you could not get out in under half an hour. In this era of banking utopia, the all-powerful bank manager or his deputy kept an eye on customers and, once spotted at the screen-free counter, you were always confronted for a friendly chat.This is not fiction. This is fact. I wonder today what those same proud, efficient bankers would say if they learned that, when some customers ring their local branch (or try to) their call is answered not at branch level, nor even regional office or London head office, but in India. Personally I would love to suddenly turn up at some banking clerk's computer desk in Hyderabad to make a complaint. It might go like this:

"Good morning. I am account number 4880349265 and I have come to complain that last month when I paid out a cheque for £24.99 to Marks and Sparks you duplicated it in my monthly account."

Clerk: 'Are you sure? Can you prove it? Have you got your statement with you? Well, unfortunately, I'm not authorised to cancel the duplicate. You should contact regional office in Kuala Lumpur. Or Hong Kong, perhaps. After that Phuket. Where are you from anyway?"

I can hardly hear him in the oppressive heat for the fans whirring in the ceiling.

"England, the North of England. East Lancashire actually."

Clerk: "Blackburn or Darwen!"

"Oh, you know the area that well do you?" Clerk: "Yes. We have many customers in those places. What is your name?"

"Fort. But you've probably never heard of that name."

Clerk: "Oh, I don't know. We have many Forts in India. But they're all built of stone!"

He enjoyed his joke so much that he thumped the desk with his fist and I noticed that the last entry on his screen duplicated itself from the shock of the blow.

Perhaps, I thought, when he was inputting my purchase from M and S, he had cracked another joke. Clerk: "How long has it taken you to get here?" "Four days."

"Four days! You should have saved yourself the trouble and telephoned. Your bank pays for the call. It's only a local charge to you."

"I know. I can't figure out how they afford it. But, you see, I'm old fashioned. I've been dealing with banks a long time. And I like to visit my branch occasionally, even though it is in India. It's usually the quickest way to get problems sorted out." Clerk: "Not any more, I'm afraid sir. Not now that we've gone worldwide."

I turned to leave. "Excuse me sir, before you go. I notice that your account was dangerously close to your overdraft allowance last month...."

As I say, this was pure fiction. But, in the world of today, it could so easily be fact.