Alright, so to start I need to give the back story. A couple weeks ago, I was buying something online with my debit card, and like a total moron, I just left it sitting on my lap top when I was done. I vaguely remember seeing Madelynn chewing on the corner of it, but for some reason, I didn't grab it from her. I'm sure you can see where this is going. The card is gone. Lost. Forever and ever. So anyways, since Jeffrey and I have a joint account and he has his own card (plus we have a check book), I wasn't in a huge hurry to get a new card. Sure, it was inconvenient, but it wasn't the end of the world. I went to the bank last week and told them to send me a new one, which isn't here yet.
So last night after bowling (which I sucked at by the way), Kendra, Lacey and I went to Walmart to grab a few things. I didn't really need anything, but I've never left Walmart empty-handed, so I had a couple random objects in my arms. Baby wipes, a $14 cell phone (the only kind I use), and a three pack of pregnancy tests. When we got to the check out line, I also asked for a pack of cigarettes (which are almost seven dollars, a pretty good reason to quit). So dude man is ringing me up, there's a line behind me, and I'm fumbling with my check book. $34.94 total. Cool, here's the check. DECLINED! You're kidding, try another one. I KNOW that there's a shit-ton of money in our account right now. I know. So I give dude man another check and... DECLINED!
Fucking-bullshit-mother-bitching-slut-face-whore. So here I am, buying pregnancy tests and cigarettes, people behind me, and apparently I'm too poor to pay my thirty-four dollar bill. I looked like a fucking idiot. A stereotype! Young, poor, pregnant, and smoking. Talk about embarrassing. I was shaking when I left Walmart.
Today I called the number that was printed right under DECLINED, on the tiny slip of paper that dude man gave me in exchange for my dignity. Why was I declined? The non-english-speaking asshole that I spoke to for almost 30 minutes informed me that they just wanted to verify my phone number. Shut.the.fuck.up. Seriously. My phone number?? You embarrassed the eff out of me in WALMART!!! to verify my effing phone number? I needed to speak to a supervisor about this, so after I sat on hold for another thirty minutes, the same non-english-speaking asshole got back on the line. Where's the supervisor? "I am the supervisor, ma'am." Shut up. You're kidding. Why the eff did you put me on hold then??
So anyways, they just wanted to verify my phone number. Couldn't they have just sent me a fucking letter?? Or hell, call the phone number that you have on file and ask if it's me! I would have said yes. GRRR.
And I hate Walmart.
*I am NOT pregnant, nor did I really think I was. It's just that I haven't had a period for two years now, and cheap pregnancy tests every couple months make me feel better.