В предыдущих сериях моих очерков, посвященных судебным тяжбам...

In my previous series of essays on litigation with one spectacle, I predicted this almshouse will lose in the appeal instance and eternal shame, and I was right. It took our judicial system only four months to establish itself in its decision, and one and a half months for Judge Bystrova (no kidding) to sign the papers.
On Monday, with a firm gait, I brought the writ of execution to the branch of Sberbank closest to all the participants in the epic. And this was my main failure.
The fact is that I did not take into account the cunning of the enemy. The choice of Sberbank was clearly not made by chance. This stupid office (I'm talking about spectacles) clearly chose the bank with the expectation that if they lost all the polymers, then no one would overcome this last frontier. This is Mannerheim's line through which no enemy can crawl. Even if NATO tanks overcome the borders of their homeland, they will reach the nearest savings bank, take coupons and rot in line. And four times they will return to the base for documents.
On Monday, I handed over to the bank a writ of execution, passport data, details of the participants in the voluntary-forced payment and my phone number. A couple of times they asked me why I was without a power of attorney. I replied that I was a natural person. They looked at me doubtfully.
On Wednesday I called the savings bank, and it turned out that I had read the St. Petersburg savings bank sheet somewhere. I once again reached the department and frightened the employee with my appearance (for it was the second day of the three-day period for translation).
- you are without a power of attorney! - told me.
- I am an individual - I specified.
Today I again called the hotline for money-hungry people and the man on the other end of the line told me that he saw the sheet, but he would not tell me the information, since all my data was not submitted in the form of a separate application and he could not check if I was right. who I say I am. Because any fool can send a scan of a passport, but write with a pen - only a unique original.
Hissing viciously through my teeth, I wrote such a statement that it could be taken as an ege entrance exam in literature. There were requisites, passport details, a passage about seven hungry children and entreaties to transfer my condemned money to me. Like hermes, I rushed to the savings bank, found the manager and handed the application. The next question was very laconic:
- what for?
- yes I ... I you ... I called ... I was told ... here, take a statement.
- and, I remember, you are as a legal entity.
- I am a natural person, here I am!
- wait, - said the manager, and after a couple of minutes she handed me the '15 form and a pen.
Twitching an eye, I filled out the unfortunate form. Along the way, they checked my collection notes, like a patient's temperature:
- your account is not closed.
- but it cannot be!
- well, yes, he's under arrest ...
- shtaaa? - immediate graying.
- but no, all the rules. Here is a printout of what is normal.
- so can we close it?
- I can't, bring a certificate that the FSSP has no complaints against you.
* nervous tic *
- here's a printout ...
____________
Actually, this is how I sit five days later without money, but with a printout. I plan to continue the epic battle between justice and savings on Monday afternoon or so. Until then, I'll drink some wine; because I no longer have the strength to look at the world sober.