Two weeks ago my father, a.k.a. Sr. Xrlq, was seriously injured in a bicycling accident, causing spinal compression that leaves him as a quadriplegic for the time being. His long-term prognosis is not too bad, but it’s a slow process. My brother, Bubba Xrlq, flew out to California the next day to help manage things around the house in his absence. I flew out a week later to relieve him of his duties for a couple of weeks until my aunt takes over next week. It’s hard enough dealing with someone else’s family matters when everyone cooperates. It’s much worse when other actively compete against your efforts. That’s where Bank of America comes in.

Last Tuesday, it became clear to me that we would need to have my father complete a power of attorney sooner rather than later. Figuring that Sr. Xrlq’s bank, Bank of America, would be the entity we’d have to deal with the most, I went to the branch where his account is based, and asked Moron #1 if they had a particular form they like to use. Moron #1 told me that if I don’t know what form to use, I’d need to ask my lawyer. Taking Moron #1′s advice, I asked myself, if I were a power of attorney, what kind of power of attorney would I be? LFINO, so I contacted a tax, trust and estate lawyer I had clerked for during law school. He directed me to the California Uniform Statutory Form Power of Attorney, a neat little ready-made document, courtesy of the California Legislature, that does exactly what I need, and more. Since the document comes straight out of the California Probate Code, it’s essentially bulletproof, and per Cal. Prob. Code 4406 (moron that later) anyone dumb enough to challenge it without cause will end up paying my attorney fees. With such a well-written, widely available statutory document available to anyone with a web browser or access to a law library, I figured no wonder B of A doesn’t bother designing a pet form of their own, per Moron #1. Why should they?

At this point, the only question was how to get Sr. Xrlq to “sign” a power of attorney when he has sharply limited use of his arms, and no use of his hands. Do we really need to stick a pen in his mouth to make an X? No, we don’t. Section 4121(b) of the Probate Code provides that a power of attorney may be executed either by the principal himself or “in the principal’s name by another adult in the principal’s presence and at the principal’s direction.” Technically, that other adult could be me, but the idea of me signing a document naming myself as his attorney-in-fact seemed a bit too cute by half, so I arranged for one of his colleagues to appear at his bedside with a notary in tow. They followed the law almost to the letter, except that rather than signing “Sr. Xrlq” the colleague signed, presumably at the notary’s instruction, “unable to sign” in Sr. Xrlq’s place. [Go ahead, challenge it in court on that basis: I dare you.]

It took a couple of days for me to get everyone in the right place at the right time, but by Thursday night, I had a fresh, notarized statutory power of attorney in hand. On Friday I marched into another B of A branch closer to work, confident based on Moron 1′s advice that I would be easily added to the account. Turns out, Moron #1 was mistaken. B of A does have a form power of attorney they like to use, and per Moron #2, no other forms are accepted. That would be a fun theory to reconcile with Cal. Prob Code 4406(d), which provides that:

[A] third person’s refusal to accept an agent’s authority under a statutory form power of attorney under this part shall be deemed unreasonable if the only reason for the refusal is that the power of attorney is not on a form prescribed by the third person to whom the power of attorney is presented.

Short of adding the phrase “yes, you dumbasses at B of A, we really do mean you,” I don’t know how much clearer the California Legislature could have made things. Anyway, Moron #2 then asked me if I was a power of attorney, presumably because I was having a really-bad-hair day, causing me to look like either a piece of paper or a legal abstraction, I’m not sure which. Moron #2 then referred me to her manager, Moron #3, who reiterated Moron #2′s position that B of A is above the law. Moron #3 added that only originals were acceptable, and in any event, whatever forms B of A may accept would have to be filed in person with the branch in which the account was established.

I would have minded driving to the original branch, which was only 3 miles away, except that my temporary work location has a parking garage that doesn’t allow in and out privileges, so I faxed a copy of the power of attorney to the home branch instead, leaving contact information. An hour later I called the branch and spoke to Moron #4, who assured me that the fax had been received, was being processed by the “legal” department, and should be complete within an hour. An hour and a half later I followed up, only to be told by someone else that the fax was illegible and could not be processed – in other words, that Moron #4 had lied through his teeth. So I bit the bullet and drove to the original branch with the original and a clear, legible copy in hand. I presented it to Moron #5, who told me I need to bring Sr. Xrlq out of the ICU and into the bank branch to execute in person the proprietary B of A power of attorney Moron #1 had told me did not exist. I explained to Moron #5 that this was not possible, and that in any event the power of attorney was notarized and valid as executed, without the need for Sr. Xrlq to do anything else. He referred me to Moron #6, who faxed the document to Moron #7 of their “legal” department.

Shortly thereafter, Moron #6 got off the phone with Moron #7 and returned to inform me that Moron #7 could not acknowledge the power of attorney because Sr. Xrlq had not personally signed it. I explained to Moron #6 that there was no way he could sign it, because like most people, he writes using his hands rather than his mouth, and the former is out of commission – which, in a bizarre coincidence, is also a big part of the reason he needed this power of attorney in the first place. Moron #6 told me that if Sr. Xrlq can’t personally sign a document, B of A will need a letter from his doctor attesting to the fact that quadriplegics can’t write stuff with their hands. I referred Moron #6 to Cal. Prob. Code 4121(b) above, and reiterated that any power of attorney may be signed by the principal or by another adult in his presence acting at his direction, without any need to show that the principal is incapable of signing if he wanted to. Moron #6 replied that I was talking about the law, but she was talking about B of A policies, which are more rigid than the law “requires” (or, per Cal. Prob. Code 4406, more rigid than it allows). She also added that she thought the notary was wrong to notarize a document signed at Sr. Xrlq’s direction because Sr. Xrlq himself did not sign it. I referred her again to the statute explicitly authorizing one person to sign for another under the circumstances, and also calling for someone to notarize it. She replied to the effect that the law is the law, and notary rules are notary rules. Apparently notaries aren’t supposed to follow laws, either. [Note to non-U.S. readers: I do not intend to impugn notaries in your country. My understanding is that many, perhaps most countries require notaries to know their ass from a hole in the ground. For better or for worse, the United States is not among these countries.]

Shortly thereafter, Moron #6 hung up with Moron #7 at the “legal” department and told me that Moron #7 had informed her that “legal” would need 72 hours to determine whether the California Probate Code applies to federally-chartered banks, or whatever the hell other legal issues he/she/it may have had. He/she/it also informed Moron #6, who in turn informed Moron #8 (that would be me, for sitting through all this crap) that the matter would be escalated all the way up to a … drum roll, please …. paralegal. Apparently, it is S.O.P. for the “legal” department to leave decisions like these to its janitors, before letting paralegals kick around for three days concepts that could be resolved by a mediocre attorney in as many minutes. Moron #6 then gave Moron #8 a number for customer “care” to if Moron #8 wanted to complain about the needless knuckle-dragging. Moron #8 called the number promptly, waited on hold for 10 minutes, and was ultimately told that once a matter goes to “legal,” customer “care” doesn’t … er … care. So as things stand, Bubba Xrlq and I both have power of attorney, if only we could get B of A to figure that out.

UPDATE: Michelle Malkin offers another reason to hate these clowns.