It was a lovely afternoon, until the bank called to ask me where I am.
Me: Um, in my office right down the street from you. Why?
Bank: So you're not in St. Louis then?
Me: nope. And again, why?
Bank: The Marriot charges, and the restaurant.
Me: I wish I was there, but I am really here. Need me to walk over?
Bank: No, we've got this. But while we have you on the line, did you just insure a new vehicle a few minutes ago?
Me: *laughing* Are you serious???
Bank: I denied it all. We'll send a new card.
Me: Can I go on vacation with it?
Bank: St. Louis?
Both: Bwahahahaha!
You have to love small town banks that know you. While the card thing is a pita, at least they know me and have the sense to deny charges that are odd and call me right away.
Pot roast in the pressure cooker is on the menu tonight. *fingers crossed* that it works.