A Complete Idiot

I made such a dick of myself.

I went to pick up my car after it was serviced. I handed the service guy my credit card. A minute later he comes back and says, Christian, your credit card has expired, do you have another one?

That's strange, I say, as I've only just got a new one.

I think of the trouble I had with the virus protection automatic renewal, charging on my credit card without up to date details, which didn't turn out to be trouble at all. Apparently, they have refunded me twice. Where does my honesty play out in that?

Anyway, I looked in the spot in my wallet where I always put my new credit cards as they wait their turn, but nothing, just some frequent flyer rewards card.

Damn! Strange? I looked through the rest of my wallet but nothing. I was beginning to think that the only explanation was that I had cut up the new card and had kept the old one. But, I didn't remember cutting up anything.

Oh, I couldn't have?

Yeah, great, I thought, just as I'm heading interstate.

You see kids, it's bad to give up marijuana, don't listen to your parents, they are stupid and will only lead you down the path of sobriety and losing things.

If I order a new one, I'm sure to find the old one in the very next moment. Murphy's Law.

I looked everywhere, but nothing. I search through my wallet many times. It has to be there!

So, yesterday morning, I called the bank. I told her that I wasn't really sure what happened, but I suspected that I had cut up the new one and had kept the old one.

Oh that's okay, cooed the voice on the other end of the phone. I shall order you a replacement card.

I didn't even bother asking if it would get here by the 28th, being Xmas and all, when I'm due to start my road trip north. I'm still not sure if driving to Byron is a good idea?

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, why didn't I just buy a plane ticket in time like all the normal people?

The bank chick and I have a bit of a chat as she punched the correct keys, adjusted her seat, wiped the sweat off her brow, whatever it was that she was doing.

Then she says, I'm ordering you a new card to replace your altitude card.

Okay, I say.

I'm ordering you a replacement altitude card today.

Yes, thank you, I say.

I'm ordering you a replacement card for your altitude card which ends in the numbers 4567?

Yes, I say. But, the bells are beginning to chime, just gently in the deep, dark recess of my brain.

Altitude card? Altitude card? Altitude card? I do my best Bubble impersonation, be it silently and in my head.

Um, er, hang on, I say. My wee small voice is yelling out, HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm beginning to tune in. My brain is catching up. Oh, wait a moment.

Yes, coos the customer service voice.

I reach for my wallet. I go to the place where I keep all of my credit cards as they wait their turn. I pull out my frequent flyer rewards card and notice for the first time that just below the Altitude in very big writing, it says credit card in very small writing.

Oh, damn! Um, it's okay. I have it. It looks quite different to my previous credit cards. It's very heavy on the rewards aspect and very scant on the credit card details, although it does say Visa on it quite clearly.

It was in my wallet the whole time.

Oh, that's good, she says on the other end of the line.

Oh, I apologise for being such a dick and wasting your time like this...

Not at all she coos again. That is the very best outcome.

I'm an idiot, I'm sorry.

Not at all, this has been my favourite phone call of the morning.