a required taste for the pretentious as all get out





excuse me, but i believe that you're ordering internet porn with my identity
October 15, 2002, 8:58 pm

My credit card was lost and/or stolen.

I feel as though my capitalist wings have been clipped.

As I type this, I am listening to the good automated voice at Visa ramble on about "due to unusually high call volume, we regret to inform you that all associates are currently helping other customers...". Other people are talking to someone who is easing their fears; someone who has the power to say, "Uh, you've racked up $1500 on your card for a few 1-900 calls and a host of internet porn site memberships, you filthy perv..." and I'll scream, "No! It wasn't me! I swear!"

I was supposed to host a party tomorrow night. I was supposed to buy some new karaoke cds and some beer, but now I can't even do that. I'm taking some kids on a field trip, which takes away my planning period, which takes away the only chance I had to go to the bank before it closes. The inconvenience of all of this is staggering. Why do I have to change purses so often? Why do I leave my purse unattended in a drawer in the English office?


*sigh* So they're issuing another card to me in 3 to 5 business days, and the last time my card was used was on Sunday night when I went to buy Jennifer Weiner's new book at Borders, which saves me from having to throttle any throats of potential credit card thieves. Getting the new card would be all well and good if not for the wait and the fact that I have to buy a lot of stuff in the next week. Homecoming is fast approaching; I need to get gifts for the soccer team, and I wanted to go out on Thursday. Boo!

There's a freedom and a recklessness that comes with having a credit card. A basic "fear me because I have plastic" attitude that is the radix for all of my current joy; this is coupled with the knowledge that I have a) paid off my college debt and b) I have the cash to back up any further purchases now that I have a "real" job. With my card gone, I feel that my attempts at having a normal life are thwarted; I wanted to go to Bateman's and eat a crab dip pretzel and play trivia, but I'm now stuck at home, watching JAG with my parents. *sigh*

How sad am I that I am a slave to money?

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