A couple of weeks ago I went to draw money from the A.T.M. I inserted my card and punched in my PIN number. I was told in no uncertain terms by the screen that I had input the wrong PIN code. I realised that I had used Malcolm’s code; I usually have his card and use it more regularly than my own. So I re-entered the PIN number and the machine still decided that I was wrong. Luckily it is one of those machines where you put the card in and take it out again before doing the transaction, so it cannot swallow the card. Thank goodness because I stood there in shock (I ALWAYS know my pin) and decided to try again. The blinking screen politely told me to contact my branch.
I still have not contacted my branch. Last night Malcolm asked me if I had called the bank about my card. Duh, I have not needed to use it, I have HIS card, why on earth would I try and sort it out unless I was in desperate need of the money? (Okay, I am bloody lazy.) I told him that it was a good thing not to be able to extract money from the account, kind of like forced savings, ha! Sometimes I even impress ME.
Now reap what you say comes to mind…today I did my fresh fruit and vegetable shopping at M&S, very organised because I like to have lots of fruit for school days. I also put together a salad, ravioli and a pasta sauce from the wonderful array of ready meals, Saturday night is M&S dinner night, that way I get a break and we all watch a movie together. Alas when it came down to the nitty gritty of paying for my packed and ready to go groceries I did not have Malcolm’s chip and pin card, of course I had MY card which was less than useless. Sheepishly I had to unpack the groceries into the trolley and walk out with my tail between my legs, made worse by being lectured to by my mortified 14 year old. Malcolm was a real gentleman when I told him my sad tale, not even the sign of a smirk crossed his face.
Licence my arse
12 hours ago