Wednesday 30 March 2011

Gone In Six Seconds - I Hope They Enjoyed My Money

I've been taking cash out of cashpoints (cashpoints are run by banks, ATM's are run by other companies) since, oh, the first one was introduced. Which is a good few years. The other week, I became That Guy. I went up to a cashpoint run by the Nat West on Shaftesbury Avenue at Piccadilly Circus, keyed in my PIN, took the card, and apparently I walked away without taking the money. I have no memory of it. I didn't notice I hadn't taken the money until I came to pay for a magazine in a newsagent on Berwick Street. So back I went, not to see if the money was there, because the machine takes it back after a not very long time. Five or six seconds, according to the bank teller in the branch.

You don't get your money back. What I didn't do was cuss at myself for being an idiot and tell myself that I was useless and my life is a total fuck-up. I used to do that, and over stuff way less costly. I did wonder exactly how a) pre-occupied I was or b) just how badly the pollen is affecting me. I'm not going to starve because of it. I can shrug at it now.

Someone took the money, and they saw it and took it in less than about ten seconds. I hope they enjoyed it.

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