2001:August:14
8.14.2001

7718. That was the secret-private pin number of my bank card. 77 cuz I always used to make 2-dollar show bets on the number 7 at the horse races with my grandfather, and 18 with is the hebrew numerical equation for chai, or life.
I can tell you now, because my account is frozen and I will have to change it.
On Saturday I was at the bank machine in chinatown when I put my card in, only to notice that it was slightly hard to push in the slot on account of a different, slim opening. Suddenly, the machine went ballistic. All the slots started to open and close and my bank card would not come out. I waited for five minutes, but the machine continued to wig out. In the meantime, this older woman with a hat and sunglasses at the next machine came over to me and said in an unplaceable accent: "That happened to me last week. The woman said to keep putting in your password and pressing enter.'" I continued to do so as she hovered close. Too close for comfort, touching my arm with her sharp press-on nails.
She told me to come back on Monday and the bank would give me a new card.
Monday came along and I went to the bank and they told me that I had to go to my branch. The account was frozen with no information on file. So today I cycle like mad to make the closing time, only to find that all the money had been cleaned out of my bank, 8,000 dollar cheque had been deposited, and completely withdrawn. I had to go to the police and file a report, but the guy in charge of fraud leaves at 3. So I have 20 dollar in my pocket and no room on my credit card. I hope the police believe me.
So the lesson, kids, is...beware of touchy foreigners at the bank machine?????

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