One Word Too Many

Talking with customer representatives for software companies, telephone providers, cable companies, banks, etc. can be soul-draining.  I have one specific recommendation that I think would lower frustration dramatically.  I'll demonstrate by example.

I paid off my car loan eight months ago or so.  Apparently, when paid off, there was about $40 left as a credit from the credit union we borrowed from.  Each month, unbeknownst to me (but beknownst to Jill, since she pays attention to these things), we have been getting monthly statements that show a $5 "inactive account fee."  Think about that.  They are charging us $5 a month to not access our money, not cause them to do any processing or work, not to do anything.  The balance has dipped to $5.25, and there is a big box at the bottom of the page that totals our "overdraft fees."  Right now that's $0, but I'm guessing in one month and 2 days, this will start accumulating fees, penalties, and interest.  Though if we are getting an overdraft on an inactive account, doesn't that make it active, thus nullifying the inactivity?  Chicken and egg question (of which I usually fall on the chicken, because I prefer chicken to egg - there is so much more you can cook with a chicken.  Plus, I'm not a big breakfast person. Not to say that I literally "fall on the chicken," more that I side with the chicken argument.  Because they are tastier.  Which is ironic, since egg is "potential chicken").

So I called the credit union to close the account, hoping to pre-empt the inevitable mountain of inactivity debt that is looming.  The nice lady on the phone wanted to make sure I was who I said I was.  I gave her my name.  She wanted my address. Then my date of birth.  Then the last four digits of my social security number.  The make and model of the car (I almost got buzzed on this one - I can never remember the year of my car - but I must have gotten it right because I moved to the next round).

Then she said "there is another name on this account."  My wife Jill!  Ding.
"And what is her date of birth?"  I know this one. It's Friday!  Ding.
"What year?"  Um, hold on.  Nineteen  something something.  Ding.
"What is your mother's maiden name?" Jehoshaphat. Ding.
"Where did you go to Elementary School?"  First to Pillow for kindergarten, then to Doss.  Then to Lucy Read for sixth grade.  Ding.
"What is your quest?" I seek to close this account.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith (if that is really your name).  I can't do that over the phone.  You'll have to go into one of the branches."
So why did you ask me twenty-three questions?
"To verify your identity."
Um, ok.
"Mr. Smith (if that truly is your real name), is there anything else I can help you with"?

HERE is my suggestion.  Just take out the "else."  I'd still be annoyed, but it would be acknowledging that you haven't helped me at all to this point.  Should I give an answer to the current question, as posed, I am tacitly saying "you did help me with something, and now I either need more help or am finished with your assistance."

Would that be so hard?