The lames at work are pushing me to the brink of slicing my wrists with a letter opener in a bathroom stall daily, and so I take every opportunity I can to get away from them. Lunch for instance. I went through the drive-thru at Taco Bell, and like most people would, drove away once they'd given me my stupid burrito and told me to have a nice day. Nevermind that they still had my fucking bank card.
Back at work late in the day and a lame causes me to reach for the flask in my purse, where catching site of my wallet ignites the memory of not getting my card back. So when the stupid, shitty, miserable, Jesus Christ I-hate-my-fucking-wretched-life day is over, I go back to Taco Bell and ask for my card. "We didn't think you were coming back," said the same girl who had waited on me, "So our manager told us to cut it up."
You what? It's been 4 hours! What the fuck is wrong with you!? This is second only to going on a fucking burrito buying spree in the category of most asinine things you could have possibly done with my debit card. Fuck you!
So of course I have to cancel it, and then wait 24 hours, and then go into a bank, and then prove that I am who I say I am via showing them my various birthmarks, and then wait 5 to 7 days for them to send me a new one. The only good that came of this was the bank clerk informing me that I could have "whatever I wanted" on my card. He then showed me a catalog of "whatever I wanted." I don't know if it was really that far-reaching, but I did manage to find something I could possibly learn to live with: