My hands-off approach to finance
For the last few years, I have accepted that my “local” bank is actually ten hours away. I really have little reason or occasion to stand in a queue, now that online transactions are a thing. However, every once in a while…
My debit card is no longer reliable. Even with sufficient funds in my account, trying to buy milk, or gas, or any of the many things needed to get me through the weekend can be a challenge. The card doesn’t seem to sync with the various POS machines, and I’ve tried in four different provinces since Xmas. Yesterday, the storekeeper got me over the bump by softly rubbing the chip on my card with a nickel.
And so, early this morning, I phoned the bank. Or at least, someone that had the questions that matched my responses. I am who I say I am, etc. We came to an accord: a new card will be sent out in the mail, very soon. Until that time, I’ve received a small amount of cash from other sources (which I’ll probably have to give back when something financially pressing comes up). I can wait out the week. Funny how blasé I am about my money and retail.
I could always write a physical cheque, but there’s another tale of woe there. After six days of thwarted attempts, I finally managed to deposit (again, online with a camera and a dedicated app) a physical cheque that was here in a drawer. Nobody cared to explain why it took so long, or why I couldn’t deposit my money where I wanted to. Slowly, personal cheques are joining buggy whips and cassette tapes. Artifacts of a past age.
