Confessions of a small town reporter, a lover of all things beautiful and a teller of stories.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Gypsy
Okay, so yesterday I had a little field trip to the bank. I met Patrick, and my theory was confirmed. I also came to another little realization. A realization that I had forgotten for a little while. It goes a little something like this: I really am a gypsy. I realized that every time I go to make some important transaction at the bank, or donate blood, or vote, or register for classes, or fill out an insurance waiver, or confirm a reservation, or try to mail a package home, or start a new job, I have to go through at least 4 different addresses to find out which one I last gave them. Take yesterday at the bank: I was closing a CD, and they asked me all of these security questions. I always fail these, and could be considered a high-level security threat because I always tell them the wrong address. They asked me the dreaded question, and I racked my brain to figure out which address I last gave them. I tried my physical address in California, and tried to remember my mailing address... (That's another problem in an of itself... in some places I have two addresses to remember. A PO Box, and a physical address. It's hard enough to remember what my current place of residence is let alone two possible addresses.) Fail. They had me down for an Arizona address. The physical address. It's fine. I sighed in exasperation and told them that we move a lot. Then my personal banker changed it to my California address. Bless him. Then Tommy, my poor personal banker, was bamboozled again when he saw that I had a Utah driver's license with yet another address on it. Sorry Tommy. You'll understand when you're older. Luckily I have tried to gain some semblance of order in my life and am now in possession of a California license. I gave him said license, he made the switcheroo, and I am a little bit closer to fooling the establishment that I am in fact from California. Indeed, it is slightly nonsensical. Please bless that the CIA never has to try to find me. They won't know which address to check first. Thank you, and goodnight.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
come home to California....we are waiting.......
Post a Comment