I'm a deadbeat, yo

One of the things that constantly terrified me -- that sort of low-level terror angst that never really goes away, but never really balloons into anything big enough to, say, put you in the ER with panic attacks -- while I was out of work, and still does when I think of what will happen after my contract ends in October, is the idea of not having any money, and having my accounts cut off and all of that stuff. I always balance my checkbook and keep track of my spending and suchlike, because I have an overwhelming fear of not having any money. I think some of it is due to being raised by parents who went through the Depression in extreme poverty (movie-level poverty, the kind where they'd play swelling, tragic music over the faces of the starving kids and show agonizing closeups of things like their cardboard shoes and them eating dirt to stave off hunger pangs or something), and some of it is due to the feeling I always have of not having anyone to depend on except myself.

So there I was yesterday in the grocery store with my expensive yuppie groceries at the expensive yuppie checkout counter, and my debit card won't work. I live and die by my debit card, so I thought, well, this must just be an error on the store's part. We tried it again, and no go, and then the message came over the screen saying I wasn't valid or something. She asked me if I had another way to pay, and red-faced, I went out to my car and got my checkbook; luckily I'd just come from work and had my tote with me, which I often don't carry. The people standing in line were of course unhappy about all this, and it being a three-day weekend, the place was crowded. I felt humiliated and stupid, as if I was some deadbeat check-bouncer or identity thief getting caught red-handed. You know they're looking at the check going, "Hmmm, wonder if this one will go through."

So I went home and checked my account online, and not only was there nothing unusual, my agency had just deposited my check, so there was even more money than last time I looked. I'm saving desperately for the full-copper repipe I need to do soon, so it wasn't like it was scarcity of funds. Just for the hell of it, I tried it again at the pet store, and fortunately they're nice, mom and pop pet store people and they didn't make me feel like shit when it said the card wasn't accepted, and the people behind me didn't get pissed, but once again I felt like a loser deadbeat getting caught with no money. They're probably thinking I'm buying pet products when I have a couple of crying babies at home that I'm not feeding because I sold off my food stamps to buy pet products. (Which, I would like to add, the stupid cat did not even like -- I was hoping to replace her beloved Petromalt hairball stuff with a natural product that doesn't have petrolatum, but nooooo, we don't *like* it. And she didn't even seem to get excited about a new flea comb, replacing her old one with which she was carrying on a years-long affair.)

Then late this afternoon I get a letter in the mail telling me that there's been some compromise (what, they dont' say) of my debit card and a hold has been placed on it and they will send me a new one right away. They send me this friggin' notice by mail, on a three-day weekend, and I'm supposed to go without the ATM or anything else, and I have four dollars in my wallet. I called my dad to borrow money, and he has the nerve to not be home! I cannot believe they couldn't call me and tell me this so I wouldn't have to humiliate myself in front of strangers. Did they expect the mail to arrive instantly? They have my phone and my e-mail, and they couldn't notify me with either of those much more immediate means? It's not like they had to worry about calling me and verifying -- if they'd left a message, I'd have called and they have numerous steps to ensure identity and legit information. I think it's just shameful that they did this, and I've pimped this credit union to my friends for years. And now I have to wait till Tuesday to straighten this out, and give them a serious earful. And it's not like many groceries will be open tomorrow so that I could write a check for money over -- the big national holiday, of course.

I wasn't down enough about how screwed up my main vid entry is for the Vividcon premier show, now I get to add money agita in the mix, too. If it's identity theft or something worse, this could end up being a nightmare to fix; whatever it is, they're going to feel my wrath over how they've handled it, that's for sure. Son of a bitch must pay.