Abject is normally reserved as a descriptor of poverty. Stick with me. I know my regular reader appreciates the occasional confessional nature of this blog so hang around. I have tunnelled under my usual low standards.
My friends (I don't know what else to call them) at Lloyds Bank sent me two new pieces of plastic to replace the ones in my wallet fast reaching their call security date. A green one and a grey one.
I only ever use two pieces of plastic - a green one (Mastercard) and a grey one (debit card). I removed the old ones from my wallet and cut them neatly into four as the new ones bore a sticker saying they could be used immediately.
I was peeling off the stickers and placing the new cards in my wallet when I noticed some new writing on the grey one. A shiver wandered very very slowly down my spine, through my groin and out of my pocket.
The second card was a replacement for the airmiles duo credit card which my friends decided to send me a few years ago for no reason and I never use.
I examined the four pieces of my debit card in the bin. It doesn't run out until the end of next year. Doesn't? Didn't, it has now.
I had cut up my valid debit card and had no replacement. This is premiership stupidity. Stupidity max with extra fries.
As I contemplated having to PHONE THE BANK the shiver re-entered my pocket and walked back up my spine digging its claws in.
I have a new debit card coming. It will take a few days. That, staff colleagues, is why it is not my round today or tomorrow. And yes, the lovely bank account handler did suggest I upgraded my platinum account to a more expensive one during the conversation.
I cut up the wrong card. The shame.
Thank you. I feel better now. Usual fee?
I cut up the wrong card.
Doh.
Abject doh.
5 comments:
That is the worst excuse I have ever heard for not standing your round.
And if that's the level you need to confess at, I wouldn't bother turning Catholic.
Never mind, your level of stupidity is as nothing to mine. (not sure that will make you feel better).
I 'lost' my bus pass, hunted high and low through my overfull bag while the bus driver patiently waited, then paid the full fare, got his advice and a form on how to get a replacement, decided to wait until the next day, and 'found' it in the pocket of my bag where my library card should live.
Fortunately, I hadn't tried to pay my bus fare with the library ticket.
I once tried to enter a number lock door at work by keying in my debit card PIN. I didn't get in, and didn't get any money from it either.
I shredded a new pin number because I couldn't find any card we'd got that matched the card number it was supposed to relate to. About 4 weeks later a new card arrived through the post. And yes it had a new number that the shredded pin had applied to. When I rang up they made me feel stupid. How was I supposed to know they were going to send a new card requiring a new pin?
Pauline
Cut to the quick,eh?
Post a Comment