Blogs

Have you ever reached for your wallet and discovered a credit card was missing?

This had never happened to me, ever. Until yesterday. At the grocery store.

My scalp prickled with perspiration, much like a hot flash, and as my heart pounded my blow-dried hair curled into obstinate ringlets. A few cleansing breaths later I was able to calmly assess my predicament.

I really didn't suspect theft. I assumed the card had been misplaced when I switched pocketbooks earlier in the day. It most certainly was at home, I reassured myself.

But first things first. I had to pay for these groceries.

I could write a check.

Luckily, I had my checkbook with me. I made out the check and handed it to Checkout Guy, pulled out my key chain and scanned my shopper's card (those pennies saved really add up. Not.).

He looked at the check. Then squinted at me. Gingerly, he held out his hand with the enthusiasm of someone accepting a soggy used tissue.

"You want to pay by ch-check?" CG stuttered in disbelief. I nodded and he proceeded to scan the many buttons on his checkout apparatus.

He punched one, then another, and still a third. He tried to force the check into the check slot. No dice.

After a few minutes of this he decided to call for reinforcement, so he summoned the checkout guy in the next aisle.

"Joe, how do you process a check?" CG muttered under his breath. "I tried pushing mumble mumble and it didn't work. Do I have to press mumble mumble or mumble mumble?"

Joe surveyed the many buttons and haphazardly pushed a few, to no avail. "You have to scan your shopper's card," he told me.

I sighed. "But I did already."

This 20-something kid probably thought this middle-aged, shiny-faced frizzy-haired woman had no idea what scanning was. He asked for my card and scanned it for the second time.

Still nothing. After a brief consultation, CG and Joe agreed it was time to call in the big guns. The manager.

Mr. Manager came over, was apprised of the situation, and turned to the register. Now all three of them were punching buttons and looking mystified.

Suddenly, Mr. Manager had an epiphany. "You have to scan your shopper's card," he announced triumphantly.

I bit my tongue.

I handed him my key chain with the card affixed.

"I need the larger card, not the one on your key chain," he said.

I didn't have the larger card. Its whereabouts were as unknown to me as my missing debit card.

"Without the larger card you can't write a check," he told me. And just to make sure I understood, he repeated, "You can't be approved for check-writing privileges unless you have that card."

I turned to the woman behind me jiggling her toddler, whose whining had now escalated to a shriek and whose meltdown was even more accelerated than my carton of Ben and Jerry's Salted Caramel Ice Cream now dripping on the conveyor belt.. "I am so sorry," I whispered. She smiled frostily.

Mr. Manager sensed that things were deteriorating fast. "Go over to Customer Service and they'll help check you out," he said. "You'll get your new card in the mail in about a week to 10 days. When you want to write a check, you'll have to have it with you."

With as much dignity as I could muster, I proceeded to Customer Service, paid my bill and marched out with my head held high.

P.S. I still haven't recovered my debit card.

- Helene Cohen Bludman

Helene Cohen Bludman blogs at Books is Wonderful about the quirks of midlife, parenting adult children, modern culture and, or course, books. She left a career in marketing to become a full-time writer.