So I don’t have an ATM card anymore. Allow me to explain.

I got a message from Mike the Bass Player saying that the Girl Scout cookies were in. I owe his daughter $16. I took out my wallet and there was only $14. Well, on my way over to band practice I’ll just stop at an ATM and get a 20. Easy enough, right?

There’s a Bank of America kiosk thingie near us with two ATMs. I went there. There was a woman using the machine on the right, so I went to the machine on the left. It didn’t work. Sigh in frustration. When the woman next to me finished I tried that machine. I put my card in. It went half way in and got stuck. I grabbed it and tried to pull it back out. It wouldn’t budge. After a second or two of trying it got sucked into the machine. It paused for a second… and then… did nothing. The machine ate my card.

I called the 800 number to ask how I should get my card back. It asked for my account number. Are you. Friggin’. Kidding me? I spent 10 minutes getting run around their god damned voice mail system before being told… you’re gonna love this one… that they were closed.

You. Sonofa…

I had to call my bank and cancel my card. They’ll mail me a new one. In a week. Sonofa!!!