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.