Less than an hour ago I got an email alert from the Bank of America that they had detected irregular activity on my debit card and were closing it down until I verified the new charges. I checked and found two strange charges, totalling less than $25, in Minnesota and South Carolina. After waiting on the phone for fifteen minutes, I verified the fraud and they said I could go down to my bank and get a new card.
Luckily it's the afternoon and the bank is a block away. Within 5 minutes I had my new temporary card; the one with my handsome mug on it will come in the mail, but with the same account number.
The good looking blond guy who handled this at the branch office recognized me and said in his French accent, I opened your account for you, didn't I? No, j'ai repondu, I've had an account here since you were, maybe, eight years old. But we did some business this past year. He checked the screen. You're right: I was eight in 1991.
It pleased me that this card thing got handled so fast and easily. It pleased me less that the fella who did it for me was a little kid when I moved here...
2 comments:
I imagined this differently...
"Voici votre carte bancaire." Leurs mains touchent; ils sentent un petit tressaillement.
"J’ai ouvert un compte courant pour vous, n’est-ce pas?
"Non, j’ai l’eu peut-etre depuis vous avez eu huit annees. Mais nous avons fait quelques affaires l'année derniere."
Il regarde l’ecran. "Vous avez raison. J'ai eu huit années en 1991." Il le regarde. "Maintenant, je suis assez vieux pour vous me foutre, si vous voudriez. Pardon, la convoitise me rendent indiscret." Il sourit.
Tres romantique, PNWLecteur!
Post a Comment