Team, I’ve been robbed. Seriously!
If you recall my blogs on traveling, I have a new tip: never give your credit card to the hotel lady in order to have the stuff you forgot shipped back to you. Apparently I am even more fabulous than Assclown the Amazing Jerk Off, because somehow I can simultaneously be at work on Thursday (in Tacoma, Washington) while at the SAME MOMENT buying $400 of merchandise in Southern California!
It’s a good thing I didn’t write this earlier today, because there woulda been a whole lotta “fucks” and “bitches”.
- When I left the hotel Friday morning, I forgot my bag with some jewelry and perfume. Oh, and Secret Platinum Shimmering Peach deodorant. I found that I was missing said bag on Saturday morning.
- I promptly called the hotel, spoke to a nice lady in housekeeping (we’ll call her Klepto-Bitch Betty) and was told that they had the bag and could send it to me. She wanted to use the card that they had on file that paid for the room, but that was a corporate card so I gave her mine.
- I noticed on Thursday evening that I was missing about $400 from my checking account…which in itself was disturbing, but I figured that either I had forgotten to write something down or my car payment had automatically gone through, which it has before. I also couldn’t get gas this morning, but I figured it was the pump that was the problem and paid cash.
- Imagine my surprise when I go to treat my team to coffee and my card is declined! Now, it’s payday today so I know that there’s something shitty going on so I call the bank.
- They tell me that they locked down my card yesterday morning because of a series of odd purchases. I am assuming that they meant when I was in California, they thought that was wierd…but then she started reading me the charges:
- $300 at Pier One in Pasadena, CA
- $100 at TJ MAXX in Culver City, CA
- $10 at Bed Bath and Beyond in Culver City, CA
- Plus several other charges that got declined due to insufficient funds and then because they locked down the card. YES! Bastards.
- I’m freaking out!
- I promptly call the hotel and ask to speak to the manager. I leave a message, then I call back and ask them to page him. He’s not in. So I get a hold of the assistant manager or whatever the hell she is, and I explain the situation. Following is her contribution:
- She doesn’t think it was her employee because in the state of California (ma’am), you actually have to swipe a credit card in order to buy something.
- The hotel is not responsible for items left behind in the hotel room.
- She doesn’t see how sending my stuff to me could have cost $400.
- Enough. I’m dumber just listening to her. I ask to speak to Klepto-Bitch Betty’s boss. I explained the deal to him and he seemed to see what I was saying, and at least apologized, which was more than I had gotten so far. He said he would talk to Betty and see if she stole my card number. This is unbelievable. He also tells me that the hotel is not responsible for lost or stolen items. At this point, I’m like, “I don’t give a fucking shit about the bag of stuff! I want this woman’s ass on a platter and I want to know why she thought she could take my card and buy fuck-all with it. At TJ MAXX for crying out loud!”
- The bank tells me that I will definitely get my money back but it won’t be till Tuesday. Also, they have to issue a new debit card and send it to me, and I won’t have it for about a week. So now I need to get to the bank pronto tomorrow morning so I at least have some cash for the weekend!
- I actually get my bag back, missing perfume and deodorant.
Now, I am mostly restored to my usual sunny self, and I have the following comments to make:
- I almost feel bad for someone that can go to Pier One and buy $300 worth of stuff but then has to go to TJ Maxx afterwards and only spends $100. The one consolation they can have is that they smell frickin’ awesome because I’m sure they stole my perfume AND my Shimmering Peaches deodorant, and I always smell good.
- How dumb do you need to be to steal a card from someone who knows who you are? (I’m making an assumption here, but I think it’s pretty right on).
- People who steal suck. I feel guilty when I take someone’s pen, for the love of pete. I feel so completely violated. I want to find this woman and punch her in the mouth.
- At the same time, I am relieved that I didn’t actually spend the money, like I thought! And of course, I’m getting it back which is the ultimate awesome part of this whole story. I love Bank of America.
- Stealing is for assholes who can’t edumacate themselves well enough to make the money to buy the things they want, and whose parent’s never taught them that if you didn’t buy it with your own money or make it with your own hands, then it’s not yours and don’t touch it!
Anyway. I’m taking a smoke break then I’m going to come back and write about something more fun. I also just realized that when you’re angry it feels really good to write “fuck”.