Post 327: A Dull Day Brightened by My Darling.
Have you ever had to call the bank because you can see fraud going on in your current account?
OMG it’s a painful experience.
Not only could the talking digital monster not understand me, it took the urine out of me too.
“We need the 54th letter of your password.”
“I didn’t hear that.”
“We will try another way.”
“Can you repeat that”
All the time you’re bottling up anger — not about the deaf digital idiot that can’t even hear correctly when “my voice is my password!”
Today it was more like:
“My voice is not my pissword.”
Ha ha ha!
I was about to explode when the digital monster came to the end of the security questions without any success.
It then had the cheek to say:
“An operator will be with you soon but this is a busy time and you’ll have to wait for over an hour bla bla bla.”
(This was 7am! How could it be busy?)
I just couldn’t believe it.
I was then put on hold.
For 45 minutes.
With that bloody jingle!
By which time I had screenshot all the nonsense debits still coming out of my account.
When I got to the human — an hour after starting the call — I had calmed down and given up worrying. I had also frozen the account too, so I was doing all I could to help myself.
“This call is monitored and recorded for security and blah blah” etc., so I knew I could use the call as a marker of when I had informed the bank about this fraud.
He, the human, explained that there’s an ongoing situation causing thousands of accounts to be compromised.
But they were doing all they could to rectify the problem and by midday the fix would be in place. There’s no need to worry.
And if there was still a problem by the afternoon, ring us back.
Well that was the last thing I wanted to do — ring them back and fight with that stupid deaf digital monster again.
Oh no.
Let’s hope he’s right.
⸻
So with tension in my shoulders and my head spinning with worry I returned to taking pills and watching the TV at the end of my bed.
I thought I’d watch series 65, episode 4,876 of Silent Witness — or Testator silens for us Romans.
Is this the longest-running investigative pathology series in the world? It must be.
It started when I was in itchy grey primary school shorts and it’s still going.
But it still has the power to keep people interested, including me.
So I learned and guessed why the dead estate agent was bludgeoned to his demise in — of all places — a water closet.
But I shan’t spill the beans about why he ended up on Nikki’s stainless-steel slab.
⸻
I wanted a rest day.
A bed day.
A lie-in until dusk falls outside day.
After hurting my back on uncomfortable chairs at the wedding two days ago, I wanted to get fit for the Dorset break in seven sleeps time.
The last thing I want is to wreak havoc on another holiday.
So I listened to the rain and the wind on the windows behind me, giving extra atmosphere to the thriller I was watching.
⸻
My Darling was off to town for supplies, then off to the local village with her mate for a delve into a new hairdresser for both of them.
Meanwhile I stayed put in bed while the weekly cleaner, Mario, sang his way around the downstairs floors and every grubby surface he could find.
At some point, after another two cadavers arrived in the morgue, Mario was gone and my Darling came back.
But not for long.
Because as she explained to me in a breathless way — having run upstairs to brief me quickly — she ran back down again to comfort our neighbour, whom my Darling could not leave in that state even though she didn’t yet know what was wrong.
My Darling is a saint at times.
(Mostly… probably all the time.)
To her own cost sometimes, but a saint she is.
It wasn’t long before she was back and all panics were over — for now — and she could settle into the big sofa and watch on catch-up the Britain’s Got Talent episodes she’d missed.
That show is not really my bag but I’ll watch it if I have to.
Luckily today I don’t need to.
I’ll continue watching the scalpels and the cold drawers on BBC catch-up.
⸻
So after a dreary day doing absolutely nothing I can safely say I’m rested — and bloated from all the snacks and food I’ve had up here in bed. It’s funny how my appetite is still rabid even though I haven’t spent any calories today in exertion; unless you count anger.
The good news is that the current account has reverted and all the Northampton debits have gone — along with the McDonald’s purchases I had nothing to do with.
I think it’s twenty years since we’ve been in a Maccy-D’s and I don’t miss it.
But that’s just me.
⸻
I hope your day was more physical and less problematic than mine.
Sleep well.
Good night.
