Today is the one day I get off every week, and I got to spend half of it cleaning out my refrigerator and wiping it down. (Turns out there wasn’t a dead mouse in the motor; it just smelled like that. The appliance repairman said the freezer door had probably been open a little bit, which is enough to rot food. The smell permeated everything.)
After several hours, I was finally done. I grabbed a quick dinner at a local grille and went to the supermarket to replace all the smelly, stinky food I’d just gotten rid of.
I was pushing a cart down the aisle when my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway. It was my new bank, calling to ask if I’d just tried to buy two airline tickets to China. Uh, no.
The guy tells me they’re about to cut off my debit card. “I’m standing here in the supermarket buying food. I have nothing in my refrigerator,” I said. “Can’t I just pay for this?”
No, he tells me. But he can authorize one last ATM withdrawal.
So I put all the food back, get in my car and go to the convenience store. (The bank doesn’t have an ATM.) There’s a long line at the store ATM, but I finally get to the machine and the fraud rep authorizes my withdrawal.
I take a side street home, and pull over to let a fire engine pass. I pull out again and get trapped between two fire engines. (Ironically, they were called to the local branch of the new bank.)
At least I got a dozen eggs and bacon for breakfast tomorrow.