Ten minutes after I pull food and rent money off of my oldest son’s debit card, which I punctually do every month, I start getting hit with unauthorized transactions. All but the first one were declined, but I’m going to have to be calling my bank on Tuesday when they’re open to fight the one charge that did manage to go through (the item had miraculously “already shipped” by the time I was able to contact the vendor in question, which was really convenient on their part). I’ve obviously since closed the debit card that appears to have gotten skimmed and a new one is being sent in the mail, although the rest of Monster’s money is in his brother’s account spare five dollars to keep his account open since Bub’s account was miraculously not affected by any of this. The longer I live in this city, and even this state, the more I hate it because things like this are a staple in our lives. This should not be something that I have to deal with, let alone more than once.
I shouldn’t be surprised at any of this.
categories: personal; word count: 182 words