This is the type of thing that happens to me way more often than I’d like to admit.

I realized yesterday at the grocery store, while trying to pay for my food, that I’d misplaced my debit card.  Luckily I had cash on me at the moment so I was able to still pay for my swag (and also lucky I was able to scrounge up enough the second time it happened that same day).  So after racking my brain trying to remember the last place I used it, I remembered.  It was at the liquor store Friday night where I bought 2 bottles of wine to celebrate not being laid off from my job.  I couldn’t envision the exact moment but was sure that was it.  

I was going to check my desk before calling the bank, though.  Then David said the bank called me already and left a message for me on his phone.  The customer service person confirmed my suspicions and told me that it had, in fact, been called in by the guy at Yorkshire Liquors.  It’s my favorite liquor store to go to, especially when I don’t know what to get but have something in mind.  Everything he’s ever suggested has been great.  I don’t even try anymore, I just go in and tell him what we’re eating or cooking and he asks for a price range.  He’s an older gentleman but I do think he’s sort of flirting with me.  It makes me feel good, I must admit.

Anyway, the customer service girl told me that normal procedure when a card had been found was they cancel the card and make me order a new one.  “But,” she said.  “They said they knew you very well,” she said, “that you come in at least once a week.”  Oh.  really?  Once a week?  

Anyway.  What the hell?  I am not either.  I mean, I’m sure I’m there a couple times a month but, pff, whatevah.  

Ahem.

So I picked up another bottle on my way home from work today.  I got the stick wine.  It’s delicious.

I’ve always wanted to be a regular somewhere.

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