So this morning I remembered during breakfast that I needed to get gas before heading over to Guelph for an appointment. Fortunately, I’d gotten up early enough that that wasn’t a problem, and I still had plenty of time for the drive, even with things being a bit slow due to the weather.
Unfortunately, it didn’t occur to me until I was turning into the parking lot at my dermatologist’s office that I remembered I’d need parking money. As usual, I had next to nothing in my wallet. Crap. So I pulled in anyway and got my ticket, since there was a car waiting behind me. I figured I’d sort it out after my appointment.
Unfortunately, there was no ATM in the building, so I pretty much had to throw myself on the mercy of the parking attendant. I just drove up and asked immediately where the nearest ATM might be, and explained I’d forgotten to get money out. I don’t think I was the first person to have made that mistake, since the attendant just handed me a pen and asked me to write my name, phone number, and licence plate number on the back of my ticket, all while giving me directions to the nearest financial institution (which, blessedly, happened to be less than a block away).
So off I went, got my money, headed back, and paid my $3 for parking. Then I drove home and got on with my day. (Oh, I also succumbed to the siren’s song of Roll Up The Rim, so I’m at 0-1 for the season now.)
Then this evening I headed out to run a couple errands on the way to the gym. And when I opened my wallet at Shoppers to pay, noticed a tell-tale empty slot in my wallet where my two bank cards and Visa reside. Shit.
Brain churnchurnchurn… I’d only used the bank card twice today, once to get gas and then when I got money out to pay for parking and shit I left my card in the ATM in Guelph good one you dumbass.
So I used other plastic to pay for my purchases, then high-tailed it home and called the bank. I also logged in to internet banking to check my purchase history (since I knew they’d ask, though blessedly the attendant only asked for the most recent transaction and not the last five, like I had to give one time).
Card cancelled, new one issued, and no one attempted to use my bank card over the course of today. (No PIN…) And so I can either go to the bank and get a temporary bank card issued, or wait til my new one gets here in a week and a half. Of course, for someone like me, with a bad habit of not carrying cash very often, not having my bank card is a bit of a pain. However, perhaps it’s a good opportunity to start getting into the habit of NOT relying on it for purchases. Maybe I can bat my eyelashes at Andrew on laundry and Torchwood night and get him to buy me dinner. 🙂
Aside from my own absent-minded stupidity, the thing bugging me the most about it all now is that I’m going to have to learn a whole new card number. Yes, I actually knew my bank card number from entering it to do my online banking. Impressed the attendant on the phone, too, since when she asked, right off, if I happened to know the number, she sounded doubtful, so I doubt many people bother learning it. (I also know my Visa number, SIN, and library card number. Go me!)
(The post titled references the fact that Italy is notorious for pickpockets and petty thievery and such. Mom said that both times they were there, guys would stand in or near the doors of banks while you got money or whatever, and weren’t even remotely subtle. Like they’d make eye contact and everything. Lovely.)