~Saturday~ I left my house at about 11:15 and went to Durham to help Robert move his couch and desk to his new place. For two old guys, we got it done without too much trouble.
For lunch, we drove by Elmo’s Diner to find it way too busy to wait, and decided on Jimmy Johns instead. I love Jimmy Johns. I had their:
| #12 BEACH CLUB® Fresh baked turkey breast, provolone cheese, avocado spread, sliced cucumber, sprouts, lettuce, tomato, and mayo! (It’s the real deal, and it ain’t even California.) |
and Robert had their:
| #10 HUNTER’S CLUB® A full 1/4 pound of fresh sliced medium rare roast beef, provolone, lettuce, tomato, & mayo. |
We both loved our choices.
On the way back to Raleigh, I stopped in RTP at one of the drive-thru ATM machines at the credit union to deposit that $500 cash, which I mentioned in yesterday’s entry, to my checking account. What followed left me completely speechless, so I’m not going to comment on it, only report it as it happened.
First of all, I thought that my biggest hurdle was going to be this slight little problem with my ATM card:
Back
This is how it went down:
- I put my ATM card in the slot fully prepared for the possibility that it would be rejected as unreadable, depending on what part of the magnetic strip it read.
- To my delight, it took it and asked for my PIN. I thought, “Oh shit.” It’s been several, several months since I’ve used this card, as I no longer get cash from this credit union account. “I’m pretty sure it’s…” I thought as I punched in the numbers.
- Delighted once again, and noting that there were no envelopes into which to insert my five 100-dollar bills, I pushed the button to indicate that I wanted to deposit cash and into my checking account. So far so good.
- The little cover over the deposit slot flipped open and the screen told me to make sure my bills were flattened before entering the first one into the slot. It also noted that you could put in up to 28 bills at a time.
- I put the first $100 bill in there and it sucked it up, and before I could put the second one in, the little door shut, and the screen read, “Reading the amount of your deposit.” After about five seconds, it indicated that I had deposited $100, and asked me if I wanted to enter another bill, to which I responded yes.
- The slot door popped open again, and I slid in the second one, trying to follow it right away with another, but it slammed shut again before I could. “Okay this is going to be tedious,” I thought. “I guess ‘you can deposit up to 28 bills at one time’ means in one session not really at a time.”
- Repeating the process for the third one, it took the bill and the door closed, but then it popped back open and spit out my $100 bill, which was folded up a little. “Error reading the deposit, please try again.” There are two drive-thru machines at this place, and by now someone was using the other one, and there was a car behind me for the one I was using. “Bless her heart,” I thought.
- I straightened out the bill and sent it through again, and it took. I repeated this time-consuming act with the other two bills, and then the thing confirmed that I wanted $500 deposited into my checking account, to which I indicated yes.
- Processing, processing, processing. Message on screen, “I’m sorry your PIN is not correct. Please enter the correct PIN.”
- I put in the pin I thought it was, which would have been the same one I put in at the start of the transaction. “I’m sorry your PIN is not correct. Please enter the correct PIN.” At this point the car behind me, backed up and got into the line for the other drive-thru ATM machine.
- I tried two other pins that I thought might be correct: “I’m sorry your PIN is not correct. Please enter the correct PIN. I’m sorry your PIN is not correct. Please enter the correct PIN.”
- I tried the initial pin again, because I was so sure that it had to be the right one if it wasn’t either of those other two. “I’m sorry your PIN is not correct. Please enter the correct PIN.”
- Being both surprised and disgusted that it let me try my PIN six times (and was letting me try yet another time), I did the only thing I could do, which was to press the cancel button. At least it had the decency to spit out all five of my bills at once.
Once home, I checked my super-duper secret password file to find that it was indeed not any of the ones I had tried, and when I saw what it was I said, “Oh yeah,” and recalled the little ditty that I used to use to remember that when I was using it regularly.
I checked out the costume contest at Flex, which was saved only by the grace of Mark K. Mart emceeing it.
At a little after midnight, Joe and I made our way over to Legends, where there was a 1:00 show, and it was incredibly crowded. The “regular girls” did a great show, and it was followed by a costume contest, since the time was “falling back” an hour at 2:00.
I left right after the show, which was a short one, at about 1:40.