St. Patrick's Day From Hell

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Yeah, so this St. Patty’s Day was a real wing ding. A sure-fire write home to ma because it’s so darn fantastic whoop-di-do. I’m being sarcastic right now. It’s hard to read in text, so just picture me making furious air quotes around everything.

The day started out on the right track. I wore the humorously insulting socks Stephanie brought me from her visit to Ireland. They have a drunken shamrock on them and proudly proclaim “drink till you’re green!”. I also wore my green, sparkly, very leprechaun inspired coat. No pinches for me, no sir.

They're after me lucky charms!

Although we looked the part, our festive St. Patrick's day was going to get worse. First, right off the bat, some idiot splashes dirty slush all over us as we’re walking to the corner. I swear this dude sped up his car when he saw us. We’re wet and dirty but we hang on to the cheerful spirit because the sun is shining and I’m wearing an obnoxious amount of green.

We have sushi for lunch. Irish sushi? A new tradition! We continue on to the mall. Anson leaves me to look for my birthday gift. I head on in to H&M and see some tops worth trying on. In the change room and slowly and very carefully pull tops over my head. I had minor surgery yesterday and I have a bunch of stitches in my armpit (very ladylike) and this big bandage that wraps around my chest. While I’m in the change room one of the two metal clips holding my bandage falls off and then (bonus!) breaks. As I spend the next ten minutes trying to rebandage myself (while not lifting my left arm), I am hot and in a fair amount of armpit pain - the worst kind of pain. Using a combination of the remaining clip, gravity, and swearing, I am able to rig myself up and leave the store. I’m afraid the clip will break and my bandage will unwrap and I am no longer having much fun.

Still killing time before I meet Anson, I go shopping for more bandages. The joy of this thrilling purchase is momentarily delayed when my debit card is rejected. The message says to contact my bank. Odd, I think, something must be wrong with my PIN.

On the way home from the mall we stop at my bank (well, kiosk really - I’m with PC Financial). I use the PC ATM but the machine still stubbornly states there is an error. A very nice man working in the kiosk phones up the bank and I talk to a representative. I tell her I need to set up a new PIN because something is clearly wrong. She tells me my card has been deactivated. I ask why. She says it’s because I had two large withdrawals in the past two days. Did I take out $1,000 this weekend? Heck no! I say. Ah. The woman is very apologetic. Someone has stolen your pin number and taken your money.

Hell’s bells.

You know those warnings to cover your hands when you punch in your PIN? Watch for cameras and suspicious card readers? They ain’t kidding. I never lost my card, and I was careful when I used a machine. Now I’m out a thousand bucks until the case is resolved in 2 to 3 weeks. In the old days you would get mugged. Now they take your money without you knowing and then you're stuck in bureaucratic red tape for half a month. Thanks 21st century crime! You suck ass!

St. Patrick's Day 2007 - At least I didn't Die.

Alas, now, finally the day is coming to a close. We had an invitation to go out for St. Patty's drinks but due to my unique armpit pain/no money situation we decided to cut our losses and have a beer at home. We have DVDs to watch and I think I'll just refuse to leave the comfort of my apartment for at least 24 hours. As I reflect back on my day I can’t help but think I must have been cursed by the Irish. St. Patrick is a mean SOB. I don’t know why he hates me so much, but next year I think I’ll just stay in bed.