Humor

Satirical Sunday—Card Declined

Day 3: Satirical Sunday—Declined

Walking through the mall I smelled a mouthwatering smell. Intoxicating. 

It was the unmistakeable scent of 100 baby marshmallows swimming in melted butter. OK, it wasn’t.  It turned out just to be a Mrs. Fields cookie kiosk.

“Is there a VISA minimum?” I asked, knowing I didn’t have cash on me.

The cashier, who was wearing too much foundation and had jarringly large eyes, shook her head at me as if I was an alien from another planet.

Sometimes I do feel like an alien, living in both Canada and the US for intermittent periods of time sort of makes me feel like I’m never really from anywhere.

I ordered two sugar butters and made friendly chitchat with the bug-eyed cashier.

“That will be $5.63.” She told me. I handed her my card and she began to process the transaction.

Then, her face went white. “It…it’s declined,” she stammered, her eyes larger than ever.

Well this is an all time low, I thought. I can’t afford $5 worth of cookies at Mrs. Fields. I looked up. Oh no, I know that look. Pity. The cashier looked like a puppy who had been kicked. She didn’t know what to say. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what happened.

“Your card…” She began. “It says it expired…

In July….

of two-thousand-and-fourteen.” 

She emphasized the year in amazement.

“Oh!” I giggled. “I have other cards.” Meanwhile, her saucer eyes blinked at me with a how-do-you-not-know-your-credit-card-expired-14-months-ago look.

“They should have sent you a new one,” she said, trying to ease my ego and her bewilderment at the same time.

Just to make the encounter exponentially more awkward, I began digging in my wallet (which is not a wallet, it’s a coin purse also known as sardine can for credit cards). That’s my Airmiles…my hot yoga pass, 3 copies of the same health insurance card, drivers license… God where is this card… library card, a receipt for Chinese food…AH! There it is. 

After sifting through 29 cards (I counted), I found it.

I paid for the $5.63 worth of cookies (which ended up being $7.75 with the exchange rate on my Canadian card), smiled jovially, and took a big bite of my sugar butter.

The cashier seemed perplexed by my unscathed ego. How embarrassing. But she smiled through her teeth at me and I grinned back. She told me to “come again soon.”

I turned away still grinning. Knowing how much she didn’t mean it.

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