Oh bloody hell – our bank account got skimmed. A couple of things we tried to purchase yesterday were declined, which I just assumed was due to the wacky American debit system. Just to be safe though, I decided to check online banking this morning.

What’s this then – two withdrawals totaling $800, leaving us about .50 away from cardboard boxes under the Lions Gate Bridge. Well, fuck. It definitely wasn’t either of us, so it’s off to the bank tomorrow morning to deal with all the lovely things that come with being anal raped via ATM.

Too bad for the crooks, though – they hit up the machines *after* we had gone on a wild spree of cotton and underwear at Target. If they’d been a little more proactive in their thievery, they’d have gotten a lot more than $800. Instead, I have a new skirt and Ed has some work clothes and hah all over them.

Still, I hate having to go into the bank. I always think they’re looking at the secret bank information on their monochrome monitors from 1983 and thinking “Christ girl you are poor and seriously does anyone really need to spend THAT much money at 7-11?” We now have two things to take care of – the stolen money and the fact that the bank refuses to acknowledge the two times that Ed has gone in to upgrade our account to unlimited transactions for a flat fee instead of what we have now, which is a charge for every single card use. That charge for 89 uses at .50 a pop really doesn’t sit very well with me, more so than the crime itself because it’s the bank’s damn fault. Last time he went in to have it corrected though, the bank sent us a $25 Starbucks gift card by way of apology. Maybe they’ll double it this time – it’s going to take a lot of chai to soothe the angry.

Stupid crime, I hate you.