1. My password didn’t work. I have no idea why. I went through the re-set process, typing in (you know how well I type) my account, my social security number, and my name. Then I was told that I would be sent a “secure one-time code” to allow me to reset my password. I checked my cell number, which they had already No code. I then checked my email. No code. I asked for each to be resent. No codes.

2. I called their customer service line, and was told that if I wanted faster service, I should log in to their “convenient website.” No, assholes, I tried that, it wasn’t convenient, the system didn’t work, and that’s why I’m on the phone.

3. I was told to enter the last four digits of my social security number. I did, and pressed “#.” “You have pressed an invalid key.” No, in fact I hadn’t, but I have had this response before with Merrick. After five tries, it eventually put me in a queue for a live “representative.”

4. One picked up rather quickly: a point for Merrick over almost anyone. It was, I think, Louis, though I wouldn’t bet the farm on it. He spoke so fast, Robert Preston would have a tough time singing “Trouble” at that pace. I asked him to slow down, and he tried.

5. I explained, with only a modicum of annoyance, of what I had just experienced. He asked me, again, for my account number, but confirmed that the call was “coming from a phone associated with the account.” Then he asked my security question, which I answered with brio. He could not explain why I never got my “secure code.”

6. Next, he supplied me with a temporary password. However, he said “O” twice when he meant “zero.” That meant that I entered the wrong password. “Oopsie!” Yes, he confirmed, he meant the letter, not the number.

7. I duly entered what he read me. It didn’t work. He told me to try again. It didn’t work again.

8. THEN one of the “secure codes” requested arrive in my email, more than 20 minutes after I had requested it. Louis said it wouldn’t work any more.

9. After entering the temporary password for the third time with no log in allowed, Louis asked me to log out and try the whole process again, which I did. Nada.

10. I was then asked to use a different browser. I refused. I will not use Chrome for many reasons, and I said, as I have responded to this request with other merchants, “This is your problem, not mine. Don’t make me disrupt my systems because your IT department can’t make yours work.”

11. Finally, he asked if he could handle the payment over the phone. “Yes,” I said, “but I don’t want to have to go through this again next month.” Louis swore that he would register a complaint and an incident report. That and 25 cents, as my dad liked to say, will get me a ride on the MTA, but Louis was trying, so I approved payment through my bank, wished him a happy Easter, and ended the call.

I swear on my law license and my reputation as an ethicist that all of the account above is correct. There is no excuse for me having to go through such an ordeal, wasting almost 45 minutes and raising my blood pressure, to pay a credit card bill.

Merrick Bank sucks, and its credit cards aren’t worth the trouble. Their training is poor, their automated system sinks, and their website isn’t reliable.

Pass it along.