Today, Mom and Dad went to the bank-account store and bought a bank account. The store also sells umbrellas and cell-phone covers at a little table in the back, but bank accounts are cheaper and you don't lose them on the train.
Opening the account was easy enough, but the bank people didn't like our money. We spent most of the afternoon traipsing around Munich looking in vain for somewhere to change American Expresses into Euros in time for Mom to pay an apartment deposit tomorrow. Is this what people mean when they talk about Chase Bank?