Thursday, February 28, 2013
"Pride goes before destruction, and arrogance before failure."
So says the Good Book. And I am living proof.
On Tuesday, I switched a number of "to do"s to "done did it"s. Including switching my bank addresses from Salem to Reno.
I should have done that two years ago. But it didn't seem to matter since my financial matters are almost exclusively electronic.
That afternoon I received my new debit card from what we will call Bank A. A spiffy silver card to replace my old silver card. I was happy to see it because I thought I would be on my way back to Mexico before it arrived.
I called the telephone number on the card for activation. As I slipped the new card into my wallet, I pulled out the old one and started snipping it up.
Only after it was in four pieces did I realize the card I was snipping was black, not silver. And it was from Bank B, not Bank A.
My credit card! The only credit card I brought north with me.
But there was no need for panic. I called the bank and told the woman on the other end of the telephone what I had done. That I was reading the numbers off of a cut-up card. That she should ignore the earlier address change. I was not at that address, but at the old address.
When she started asking me additional questions (the color of my first car, the street where I lived in the third grade), I knew this was not going to be an easy process. Then she asked if I had an address before my current address. Responded I, the old address where I currently am or the new address where I am not.
She transferred me to the security unit. Or tried to. Somehow I lost the connection.
So, I waited thirty minutes and called in on another telephone. This woman was far less suspicious. Even though the circumstances raised concerns. She asked me where I lived before Salem. A far better way of wording the question.
Satisfied that I was not someone who had dug a credit card out of a trash can, she set up a schedule to get my credit card to me today. Of course, I am still in Bend. But that would really have confused the situation.
With the exception of being without my credit card for a few days, all is going well. If I can get the freezer out of the basement by Monday, the closing can be scheduled for next week.
At least, I think it can. Apparently, the appraiser confused the darkroom in the basement with a kitchen. The freezer did not help to correct the misconception.
By Monday afternoon everything should be on track. And I will have a credit card in hand to do my few purchases for the return trip south.