Come on HSBC, I’m banking on you

Just minutes after I tried to log onto my bank’s t’internet system thingy this morning I felt a blog coming on.

I have banked with HSBC, and its predecessor Midland, since leaving school in 1972.

Despite the odd problem along the way (like the time they misplaced a transfer and when I complained said “it was only £1,000 – we deal in millions”), I have stayed loyal, mainly because I know rival banks are not much better.

Shouldn’t I, and the 16,999,999 other account holders of the UK’s biggest bank, expect it to have the most secure, the most stable and the most reliable online banking system there is?

We are half a day on and the site is still not working. I just tried to login but the page died and now shows an all-embracing message - "Internal Server Error".

All this follows yesterday’s debacle when the HSBC system was down for most of the day.

HSBC has said it was not a distributed denial of service (DDOS) attack and was not caused by anything external: "This is not a cyber-attack or any other malicious act," said John Hackett, HSBC's UK chief operating officer.

Apparently it was "a complex technical issue within our systems" and the bank is running tests across its servers to try and identify the exact problem.

The scene in our house this morning.

It added that its IT team had been working "non-stop" since yesterday to find a solution. Well that’s a comfort. Are these the self-same people who installed the system in the first place and who have been responsible for ensuring its smooth operation?

As my old dad often says, “make a boll**ks of a job and expect to have them cut off”.

Except no heads, let alone other bodily parts, will roll as result of this appalling service.

Because the banks NEVER hold anyone responsible for their errors.

* Researchers for Channel 4's new documentary series, Tricks of the Restaurant Trade, found restaurants purposely seat people they deem attractive in their best tables, while hiding other customers away at the back.

That’s really odd because I thought they always sat me at the back, near the toilets, because they knew about my bladder problem. I feel much better now knowing it’s my ugly mug rather my prostrate that offends them.