Lest my life seem too discouraging, let me share part of my day yesterday...
It’s been really dry lately...so I decided to wash my truck. I can’t really explain it, but suffice it to say that we need rain and washing my truck is me doing my part. A clean truck inevitably leads to a serious rain within twenty four hours. I’ve documented it. Well...in my head I’ve documented it. That’s good enough for me.
As the guy starts to hose off the dirt at the car wash, I decide to open my wallet and see how much money I have on me. Hmmm...that would be none. Well, except for the three tattered one dollar bills I’m saving for Miami since no one wants them here. They’ve been in my wallet for over a year ‘cause I always forget to use them whenever I’m in Miami.
Since it generally takes about an hour for them to wash my truck I decide I have time to walk to the nearest ATM. Which isn’t really all that near...but whatever. It’s not like I have a lot of options. In the scorching 40 C day we’re having, I stagger the fifteen blocks and jam my card into the machine. The machine promptly tells me it hates me. Well, it tells me my card isn’t working which is basically the same thing. There are three machines huddled together and all three don’t want to accept my card.
So now I’m nowhere near my house, I have like twenty cents in my pocket and a cell phone that has about thirty seconds of airtime left on it. I call Maribel and quickly explain the situation. She has no money to loan me, so I tell her to get one of the guys to go through my bathroom window into my room and get some money off my desk.
Weirdly my bathroom has a giant window in it that looks into the common area of our upstairs. Ivan climbs through it and over my mini fridge which is weirdly in my bathroom and finds the money. He climbs back over the mini fridge and out my window and heads off to the corner where we agreed to meet.
While I wait for him I decide to use my last twenty cents to buy a bottle of water. As I open it I hear the dreaded hiss of gas escaping. The silly lady gave me water with gas (which I hate) instead of water without gas. Seriously could my day get any worse. I tried to drink it but it tastes like...water with gas...and so I abandoned it after a couple of sips. And now I’m even grumpier than before.
Eventually Ivan shows up and hands me my money. Being the zealous kid he is, he hands me every bit of money I had on my desk. A random bunch of Bolivian bills, a US twenty and a fistful of change from my change jar. I guess he wanted to make sure I had enough.
I hurry back to the car wash place to find that the slowest car wash guy in the history of car wash guys is washing my truck. What normally takes forty five minutes to an hour takes this guy over two hours. Roberto is waiting for me at a job site and by the time I get there to pick him up, he’s sprawled on the front lawn of the house where he was working, sound asleep. I’m sure the people there wondered if he was ever going home.
By now I’ve figured out that it’s the Royal Bank’s fault that my card isn’t working and I have a full on, curl your hair rant going on in my mind. I am so ready to let those people have it, I can’t even tell you. I call the 1-800 number and prepare to let loose all the rage and anger and fury that’s built up in my head.
And then the nicest lady EVER answers the phone and starts chatting me up about the weather and where I’m calling from and wow, it must be nice to escape the snow. Before I knew what was happening I was sitting there grinning like an idiot and practically apologizing for bothering her.
That nice lady transferred me to another very nice lady from the fraud department who good naturedly scolded me for moving to Bolivia without notifying the bank. I tried to explain that I’ve actually lived her for seven years and that I’ve talked to the bank numerous times about that fact (every time they kill my card), but she happily continued on, obliviously explaining that she’d be happy to reinstate my card for me but next time I travel I should really let them know.
I wanted to get grumpy and use that perfectly good rant that was still banging around in my head...but my Pavlovian Canadian conditioning to politeness kicked in and I just sat there drooling and waiting for her to pat my head or ring a bell or something. She told me to have a nice day and if I ever needed anything else to not hesitate in calling.
Hmm...maybe they could stop killing my card every time I take out more than fifty bucks.
In the end my card started working again, I got massacred in a game of foosball (the kid didn’t use his goalie which just added to the humiliation) and one of the guys randomly told me that my shorts keep falling down ‘cause I have no butt.
And tomorrow’s just a whole new adventure....
Oh...and it rained last night.
It’s been really dry lately...so I decided to wash my truck. I can’t really explain it, but suffice it to say that we need rain and washing my truck is me doing my part. A clean truck inevitably leads to a serious rain within twenty four hours. I’ve documented it. Well...in my head I’ve documented it. That’s good enough for me.
As the guy starts to hose off the dirt at the car wash, I decide to open my wallet and see how much money I have on me. Hmmm...that would be none. Well, except for the three tattered one dollar bills I’m saving for Miami since no one wants them here. They’ve been in my wallet for over a year ‘cause I always forget to use them whenever I’m in Miami.
Since it generally takes about an hour for them to wash my truck I decide I have time to walk to the nearest ATM. Which isn’t really all that near...but whatever. It’s not like I have a lot of options. In the scorching 40 C day we’re having, I stagger the fifteen blocks and jam my card into the machine. The machine promptly tells me it hates me. Well, it tells me my card isn’t working which is basically the same thing. There are three machines huddled together and all three don’t want to accept my card.
So now I’m nowhere near my house, I have like twenty cents in my pocket and a cell phone that has about thirty seconds of airtime left on it. I call Maribel and quickly explain the situation. She has no money to loan me, so I tell her to get one of the guys to go through my bathroom window into my room and get some money off my desk.
Weirdly my bathroom has a giant window in it that looks into the common area of our upstairs. Ivan climbs through it and over my mini fridge which is weirdly in my bathroom and finds the money. He climbs back over the mini fridge and out my window and heads off to the corner where we agreed to meet.
While I wait for him I decide to use my last twenty cents to buy a bottle of water. As I open it I hear the dreaded hiss of gas escaping. The silly lady gave me water with gas (which I hate) instead of water without gas. Seriously could my day get any worse. I tried to drink it but it tastes like...water with gas...and so I abandoned it after a couple of sips. And now I’m even grumpier than before.
Eventually Ivan shows up and hands me my money. Being the zealous kid he is, he hands me every bit of money I had on my desk. A random bunch of Bolivian bills, a US twenty and a fistful of change from my change jar. I guess he wanted to make sure I had enough.
I hurry back to the car wash place to find that the slowest car wash guy in the history of car wash guys is washing my truck. What normally takes forty five minutes to an hour takes this guy over two hours. Roberto is waiting for me at a job site and by the time I get there to pick him up, he’s sprawled on the front lawn of the house where he was working, sound asleep. I’m sure the people there wondered if he was ever going home.
By now I’ve figured out that it’s the Royal Bank’s fault that my card isn’t working and I have a full on, curl your hair rant going on in my mind. I am so ready to let those people have it, I can’t even tell you. I call the 1-800 number and prepare to let loose all the rage and anger and fury that’s built up in my head.
And then the nicest lady EVER answers the phone and starts chatting me up about the weather and where I’m calling from and wow, it must be nice to escape the snow. Before I knew what was happening I was sitting there grinning like an idiot and practically apologizing for bothering her.
That nice lady transferred me to another very nice lady from the fraud department who good naturedly scolded me for moving to Bolivia without notifying the bank. I tried to explain that I’ve actually lived her for seven years and that I’ve talked to the bank numerous times about that fact (every time they kill my card), but she happily continued on, obliviously explaining that she’d be happy to reinstate my card for me but next time I travel I should really let them know.
I wanted to get grumpy and use that perfectly good rant that was still banging around in my head...but my Pavlovian Canadian conditioning to politeness kicked in and I just sat there drooling and waiting for her to pat my head or ring a bell or something. She told me to have a nice day and if I ever needed anything else to not hesitate in calling.
Hmm...maybe they could stop killing my card every time I take out more than fifty bucks.
In the end my card started working again, I got massacred in a game of foosball (the kid didn’t use his goalie which just added to the humiliation) and one of the guys randomly told me that my shorts keep falling down ‘cause I have no butt.
And tomorrow’s just a whole new adventure....
Oh...and it rained last night.
5 comments:
Haha... NOTHING is worse than water with gas. Sorry for the rough day. At least it makes for a good story! :)
Still praying for you guys down there.
AAAHHHHHH!!! That's the Ken I know and love! LOL That was full on, out loud, wheezing, gasping, BELLY LAUGHING! Thanks man.
Ok--call me Ms. Thrifty but
1. you tossed your gassed water >? Couldn't you save your gaseous water for one day and then it would be come non-fizzy ? I love gassed water but if I leave it in my car or sitting around, it looses the fizz.
2. Car washing is for kid slaves in my book. When my boys were home, it fell to them, like it or not. They were none the worse for it.
3. If you want to entice us readers to send bucks, think thrifty !!
I didn't actually toss the water. I left it where it would be picked up by someone who would enjoy it more than me. No worries...it didn't get wasted.
The guys don't mind washing my truck, but since it costs me $4.00 to get it washed and detailed profesionally...I'm not too worried about it. =)
I feed a house of 10-15 guys for a week what a normal Canadian family uses in a day. Even accounting for the difference in prices, we're pretty thrifty! =)
So...feel free to send those bucks. =)
I'll send you bucks...as long as you don't lump me into the "normal Canadian family" group. I can stretch a roast further than you would even believe! Frugal diva and proud of it.
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