Now before I start, I want to make a few things very clear. Firstly, for the benefit and safety of potential burglars who happen to read this column, you will notice that I write about withdrawing a large sum of money from the bank: I would like you to be aware that I am not some daft old codger who leaves money lying around in old tobacco tins labelled ’spare cash’.

I can safely tell you that any spare cash held in our bungalow is in a large cupboard that is protected by a booby trapped double-barrelled shotgun that is aimed at groin height. We also have a large rottweiller, but I’ll leave him to introduce himself.

Secondly, I would like to make it very clear I have absolutely no reason to dislike anyone who works in any branch of the Isle of Man Bank. I don’t think much of the alterations to the banking hall in the head office, but who cares what I think about interior design or decoration?

But let me tell you a story.

The morning had started well: we had managed to find a disabled parking space in Regent Street in Douglas and we limped and wobbled into the Isle of Man Bank. There was a queue.

We were greeted and welcomed by a pleasant young assistant who quickly assessed our needs and advised us to join the queue that we were already part of.

We shuffled forwards until eventually we were standing in front of one of the three on-duty tellers.

’Good morning,’ she said, ’How can I help?’

I asked her for a balance on my card and inserted it into the card reader on the desk. She turned the screen for me to read, and asked me if I wanted another service. I said that I would like to withdraw some cash.

’Certainly,’ she said. ’What cash would you like?’ ’£2,000 in English £20 notes please,’ I replied. She didn’t blink. Tap, tap, tap on her keyboard,

’Can you tell me what the withdrawal is to be used for?’ ’No,’ I replied and added: ’I like to keep some ready cash for emergencies.’ ’

Do you have any ID?’ she asked. I opened my wallet and showed her two debit cards, a credit card and a bus pass. All no good.

’Do you have a driver’s licence, a passport or a utility bill?’

’I don’t drive, my passport has expired, and how many people do you know who carries an old gas bill with them?’

And so it went on for some time. Apparently, I could withdraw £1,900 without ID but not £2,000.

Senior reinforcements were summoned but I stood my ground. We were at stalemate and the queue got longer and longer.

The senior reinforcements continued the interrogation. No, I did not have an overdraft on this account. Nor did I have any standing orders or regular payments being made from it.

I was asked if I knew anyone who worked in the branch who could confirm my identity. I explained that although I had been a regular customer in both private and business departments of this branch since 1960, sadly most friends or acquaintances who knew me and could have vouched for me, had long since passed away.

I also explained that, in addition to my personal account, my wife and I had two joint accounts, current and savings, with the Isle of Man Bank.

The senior bank official signed a document, her junior colleague gave me my cash.

The Isle of Man Bank has undergone many changes.

They have closed many of their branches, they have re-designed, and in my opinion, completely ruined, the few that remain.

But all things change, and opinions on interior design are subjective.

We are where we are. As a rule, the bank manages our financial transactions, quickly, safely and free of charge, for which I thank them.

The DHSC can rest assured that my pension is in safe hands.