ME: If I had to guess, I’d say it’s 11 pt. Arial bold.
For the second time in a month, someone stole my credit card number. This genius used it to try to pay his monthly cell-phone bill with the ultra-ghetto Straight-Talk Wireless, who doesn’t give a shit about prosecuting him – they simply turned off his service. So justice wasn’t served, but on the bright side, I cursed at one of their customer reps until he hung up on me.
So now begins the process of once again changing 22 automatic payments I have set up, and then I get to do it all over again next month when Chase changes its MasterCards to Visas. I realize these are champagne problems, but I don’t care. It’s a pain in the ass, no one gets punished, and it makes me yearn for sweeter moments, like every time I bang my knee on the coffee table.