Dear Debit Card Thief,
I want to apologize for not being able to completely cover your $25 bill at Romano’s Macaroni Grill last week. You see, it was the end of the month and I was left to scrounging through the change drawer and relying on the kindness of friends. I’m sure you of all people can understand that things sure can get tight at times. I can’t begin to imagine how embarrassing it had to have been to leave the restaurant, expecting to go shopping and then have those stores decline your charges outright. Hopefully, you didn’t get that withering look that cashiers can sometimes dish out. You know the one, the one that silently accuses you of being a dead-beat as you ask them to run the card just one more time. I’ve been there. I hope you threatened to call the bank, because clearly this was an error on their end. It’s a good way to save face when you’re doubtlessly holding several other people’s cards and planning your route to the next electronics store.
I wish I could have offered you more than a meal, but truth be told I’m seriously underpaid for my skills (as you would now agree). I mean, I’m educated and arguably clever, but I just never lived up to my potential. I’m a bit of a disappointment to my family and frankly myself. I bet you know that feeling. I hope you don’t mind one small critique, though. You’re a little lacking in the ability to identify a suitable mark. The disheveled hair and beaten-up polyester work outfit with the scruffy looking shoes doesn’t scream “loaded” to me, but hey you’re the “debit card leverage expert” as my good friend Jerry refers to you. (I’ve learned that “debit card thief” is not very PC. My bad.) Of course, I think the problem is really with your help – the person who took my card and neatly stole the information from it before handing it back along with whatever it was I purchased. It’s really hard to find good lackeys these days. Am I right?
I also want to thank you. You’ve reintroduced me to the bank’s personnel and I’ve rediscovered my checkbook. Wow, now someone had some bad taste in check themes last time she ordered. Plus, I’ve made some major strides with my anger management. If I can be honest with you, it’s quite terrible. I tend to use humor to mask it. (This note is a great example.) But I just want to boast that I’ve now successfully gone days without wishing anything on you involving a deranged tribes person with a rusty machete and poor aim. Baby steps. Did you know you can’t actually extradite citizens to foreign countries who have questionable laws that upset groups like Amnesty International when the crime was committed here? I know I was bummed, too.
Anyway, hope you weren’t overly embarrassed at the stores. Best wishes in the future.
XXOO – Beth
Excellent! HF
Thank you!!! And let me say again, glad you’re back!
“deranged tribes person with a rusty machete and poor aim. Baby steps.” I laughed. I cried. I went out looking for our rusty machete …(oh, yeah, that extradite thing …such a bummer.)
But meanwhile, I’m going against type and practicing my aim with the machete – just let me know which restaurant…..the deranged look is so popular now…(I promise not to smirk at the checkbook designs…)
Well, if you’re offering some good aim – let’s load up the car and head to Ft. Worth (that’s where they decided to do their shopping). If we time it right, we can swing on by the State Fair to see what they’ve deep fried this year (I’m crossing my fingers for “deep fried credit card thief” but I hear they can taste a bit gamey. You may have to check the machete at the gate unless we can cover it in synthetic fur, stick some googly eyes on it and pretend it’s a midway prize. I know I’ve seen stranger prizes out there! 🙂
Oh chute. (perfect for Ft Worth). With luck the mosquitoes will take care of them – or maybe some aerial spraying might do the trick.