Unexpected Newlywed Battles

​When do you finally concede defeat, walk away, or as the English say, “give it up as a bad job?”  Murat and I are at a breaking point over something that we thought should be exceedingly simple. 

We have encountered over six months of thwarted attempts to add Murat, my husband, to my bank account.  As we are married and live together, it is hard to imagine something like this would be difficult. 

When Murat arrived in the US, we wanted to add his name to my bank account, so he would have access to our funds and his own debit card in the US.  I’m sure you are thinking, “well, that does not seem like an unusual or odd request.”  However, the series of unfortunate events below is instead what our young, foolhardy selves have been subjected to, the bureaucratic process and red tape mountains aging us beyond our years…

1. December, 2018: I go Chase as a mere exploratory excursion, to find out what would be needed from Murat and myself to add him to my account.  ‘Quite easily done,’ a man told me.  Your fiancé (as Murat was at the time) just needs to bring in his passport.
   
   
2. December, 2018: Murat and I return to Chase the next day, armed with a passport and an eagerness to make this momentous step in our relationship.  The banker helping us, stops.  "A passport is not enough to add someone to your bank account.  They also need proof of residence."  We have none yet, so we get to work on adding Murat to everything we share together – lease, bills, return address labels, joint custody of a stuffed animal named Harry, etc.
   
   
3. January, 2019: We visit Chase after our marriage at City Hall.  We now have proof of residence through the marriage certificate and have added Murat to the lease.  Bouncing in as a newlywed couple, with fool-proof paperwork in hand, we think - "now is the moment.  Murat will walk out with a new bank account!" But, what?  A marriage license and lease are not good enough proofs of residence?  I repeat - A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE AND LEASE ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FORMS FOR PROOF OF RESIDENCE.  Defeated and frustrated, we robotically ask what would be appropriate forms of proof.  A cable bill, electric bill, or a statement from another bank addressed to Murat at our new home would do the trick.
   
   
4. March, 2019: Murat gets a letter from his UK bank to our NYC address.  As we have not yet had luck adding him to our utilities accounts (another story for another day), we take the UK bank letter to Chase.  But as we sit with the Banker, our dreams are again dashed.  It is not enough that the bank sent a letter to Murat. They needed to send him a statement, with his funds and transactions listed.  Is this a bad joke we are not in on?
   
   
5. April, 2019: After months of back and forth with Con Edison, we receive a letter that states Murat is now added on to the account.  It has his name, our address, the name of the electric company.  But now, I am not so naïve.  I will not be the doe-eyed little girl any longer!  I am on to wily ways of Chase!  So before I drag Murat to Chase for a fifth time, I first go in with the letter on my way home from work.  I show the Banker.  I tell her I am tired of being turned away, and want to know, will this work?  She says yes…
   
   
6. April, 2019: The next day, we return to Chase with the Con Edison paperwork.  We are sitting the comfortable armchairs of the Banker’s office, ready to walk out victorious.  The Banker, the same one who had just yesterday approved the document, takes the letter to her colleague to ask a question.  When she returns, I restrained myself from clawing at her.  “Unfortunately this is not a bill, it’s only a letter saying that Murat is now on your electric account.  We need a bill.”  Writhing and kicking, Murat pulls me out of Chase before I start turning over computers.
   
   
7. June 11, 2019: We are weary, battle-wounded, and broken.  Nevertheless, we persist, and arrive at Chase with
   1. Passports
   2. Bills from Spectrum
   3. Bills from Con Edison
   4. Murat’s Employment Authorization card
   5. Murat’s Social Security card
   6. An accordion file filled with anything else we feel they might possibly ask us for, just in case.

We are doing it.  Murat is asked to create a username and password for online banking.  He is asked to create a PIN number.  He is asked for confirmation of address to send his new debit card.  We. Are. Doing. It.

And then…the Banker looks concerned.  She asked Murat to input his information again, since the computer froze.  He does, and she gives us the same pitiful look as just a moment ago.  A fellow Banker comes over and asks ours if “she’s also having problems with the system.  It seems like it’s down.”  Our Banker asks us to wait while she tries to sort out what’s happening.  When she returns, she hands Murat a water bottle for his troubles.  He looks at her puzzled, and she informs him that she is “so sorry, but the systems have just gone down, and we can’t complete the steps needed to have him join my account.” 
 
Do we cry?  No.  Although our stomachs churn and our hearts sink, we are not that surprised.  We laugh in the face of adversity and look forward to using a new water bottle!  Ahhh, the spoils of war.
 
Perhaps the Banker recognizes the deadness behind our eyes, and sees remnants of a once young, care-free couple.  She offers to make an appointment with her for two days later, and assures us that upon return, she will help us complete the mission we set on so very long ago.
 
We will return.  We will not give up.  But I’m becoming slightly worried and convinced that there is a higher power doing whatever it can to stop us from completing this task.  I can’t help but wonder, should we listen to the signs?