At the beginning of every month Susan Jane Jones posts a ‘giggle blog’ to give us all a laugh.
I’ve often wished I could join in but have never been able to think of anything amusing to relate. Then, last week a couple of things happened ~ one of which I’m never going to live down!
One morning I decided to do our monthly food shopping really early, to beat the queues. So, before I’d even eaten breakfast, I was negotiating the aisles of my local supermarket, nodding smugly to other bright sparks with the same idea.
I didn’t notice that my debit card was missing until I wanted to use it again a couple of days later. While I searched the house, Martin checked the car but it was nowhere to be found ~ not even in the fridge, nor in my husband’s pocket. Working backwards, I recalled where I’d last used it and phoned the supermarket, relieved to be told I’d left it there. Yay! It would be such a drag to have to cancel it.
The following morning, on my way to reclaim it ~ and to fulfil my Rice Bucket Challenge ~ I was alarmed to notice that, according to my speedometer, I appeared to be racing down the hill. I must have driven this way thousands of times and didn’t think I was travelling any faster than usual ~ but I braked to the legal limit anyway. Which felt ridiculously slow.
A driving school car pulled out of a side road up ahead of me and I followed it, keeping the distance between us equal. It seemed to be speeding too. Figuring that the instructor would definitely not allow his pupil to break the law, I deduced that there must be something wrong with my calibration and proceeded with extreme caution ~ especially as I passed the one traffic camera en route.
At the supermarket I enquired about my card ~ only to be told by the nice young duty manager that it wasn’t in the safe. Repeating the details of my telephone conversation yet again, I sent him back to his office to look properly ~ sadly with the same result. So, not having enough cash on me, I couldn’t make my promised donation to the food bank after all.
I drove home carefully ~ it was fine when I could follow the car in front and match it’s speed ~ but a nightmare when I became the leader and had to guess, especially going past that pesky speed trap where I slowed down to snail’s pace, to avoid the remotest possibility of incurring a fine.
When Martin came home, I regaled him with my tales of woe and he asked me if I’d tried turning the car off and on again. (At first I thought he was joking, because we’re currently watching ‘The IT Crowd’ on Netflix and that’s their catchphrase.) Of course I had ~ when I got to the shop and when I left. Muttering to himself he went out to the car, turned the key and pressed a button on the dash.
Apparently my car reads the speed in both miles per hour and kilometres.
One of us (I’m not pointing fingers) must have accidentally reset it to the latter, when looking for the missing debit card.
Talking of which…..
We decided not to bother looking for it any longer, so I flipped the lid back on the wheelie bin ~ which I’d been peering into, hoping to spot a small rectangle the same colour as my card amongst 13 days worth of recycling. It’s amazing how much red is used in packaging these days.
There was nothing for it, but to ring the ‘lost and stolen’ hotline. But we’d been caught out by that once in the past. So before they cancelled his card too, leaving us with no access to funds, Martin ordered a part for our vintage car from the internet, then went to a nearby ATM to draw out enough money to tide us over until the new ones arrived.
But it was empty. The cashpoint, not our bank account……although…….by now the card had been AWOL for several days and I was starting to get a bit edgy. So was Indie, it was time for her daily constitutional ~ so we all walked to the village Post Office, were a nice lady handed us our emergency dosh.
Back home I finally made the dreaded call. And listened to the menus. And pressed the appropriate buttons. And tried to understand the Northern accent of a young man who couldn’t hear me, because the background was so noisy. And struggled to recall which, of my numerous passwords I’d set up for telephone banking, back in 1993.
And, suddenly it was done. Old card stopped, no unusual transactions showing and a new one on it’s way. Whew!
Drama over, Martin and I joked about the drivers behind me muttering that I was a silly old biddy, who had clearly forgotten how to drive and shouldn’t be allowed on the road. Yep, we’ve all done that ~ but I’ll be giving old blokes and biddies the benefit of the doubt, in future.
Then I remembered something.
‘Oh, by the way,’ I laughed, ‘you can still use your bank card ~ they haven’t cancelled it after all, they don’t do that any more. I guess it causes too much inconvenience!