In A Moment of Panic

 

 

That dreaded phone call when whoever you share a checking account with calls and the first words they say are, “I can’t find my debit card.”

First, your heart stops, then a plethora of random scenarios flash through your mind.

You remember seeing them pay for dinner, remember hugging your dinner companions and getting in the vehicle. You remember the late night trip to Sam’s Club for a gallon of Honey Crisp Cider and mega pack of paper towels.

You search EVERY pocket of your purse, hoping with everything in you, that you slept walked, got into his wallet and stole it in the night.

You check your phone 35 times in the next 7 minutes to be sure you have service while you pace through your house, silently cursing your partner.

You resist texting him the common sense instructions of, ‘call me as soon as u kno anything!’

You wait, and wait, and wait. You check email, in case your bank has sent you an insufficient funds notice.

You try to log on to your account.

OF COURSE the bank’s server is DOWN!

 

The phone rings.

It’s your child.

‘IGNORE’

You can call her back after the crisis because gosh darn it, as soon as you hit ‘answer,’ the card losing misfit who had the NERVE to put you through this will call and get sent straight to voicemail.

You let the dog out, you let the dog in.

You check what time his call came in, wondering if he’d gotten in a wreck on the way to the bank. 17 minutes. Okay in 17 minutes you can do an awful lot in my town. Like, drive through it 3 flipping times.

Finally the phone rings, it’s him.

You answer, waiting for his voice.

“It’s all good babe, they cancelled my card. No charges were made.”

You breathe. You breathe again.

He better bring flowers, or coffee, or both.

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