There's nothing wrong with a little penchant for fast food right? After a recent experience, I got the hint that I need to tone it down a little.
Sure fast food is bad for you and it is hard to avoid the guilt that comes with being handed a hefty bag through the second window that takes both of the employee's hands and your hands to complete the transaction... and knowing that it is all for you. But, every now and then it is what the doctor ordered (well not literally, unless they were trying to drum up business).
So picture this, I woke up for work on a Friday in a great mood and the first thought that crossed my mind after turning off the alarm---- McDonald's breakfast! Like a kid on Christmas morning, I jumped out of bed, and rushed to get dressed so I could make it to Mickey D's to grab some scrumptiousness without being late for work. I felt good as I made great time fighting the traffic to my local McDonald's. To avoid the inevitable delay of amateur (or lazy) McDonald's purveyors, I opted to go inside. So I parked, headed inside and, given my elated state, decided to forgo my normal chicken biscuit and ice coffee order and treat myself to the whole big plate breakfast. You know, the one with everything that screams coronary, covered in syrup.
|Oh yeah, Mickey-D's. You got me salivating like a Pavlov dog.|
This morning, this particular McDonald's was extra efficient (am I in New Orleans?) and the food was being bagged before my transaction was completed. The woman behind the counter grabbed my meal and ice coffee and sat it all in front of me and then waited for payment. With a smile, I pulled out my trusty debit card and swiped it through the self-serve card swiper machine.
I chuckled, "stupid machine," .... swipe again
I started to get nervous as the woman behind the counter fixated her cold, McDonald's gaze on me.
I didn't have any cash. Swipe.
I KNEW I had money in my account. Certainly enough to pay for the big plate breakfast. This totally confused me. Panic immediately took place of confusion as I realized the fate of my breakfast. The breakfast that was already sitting in front of me.
The woman, tired of my fumbling, asked "Can you pay?" I tried smiling nice and explaining that my card should work and that I didn't have cash. In one fell swoop, the bag and iced coffee were off of the counter, and her back was to me as she yelled:
"Beth, we have another one who can't pay." Apparently she felt the need to inform Beth AND everyone in line behind me of the situation.
Totally defeated and empty handed, I turned to leave. I kept my eyes down as I walked past the line of McDonald's goers who knew the "go inside trick" and who just watched me have the ultimate McDonald's Fail.
My confusion regarding my money woes was cleared later that day when I found out my card number was one of FIVE THOUSAND potentially hacked overnight through my bank, which then shut off access to my account (without notice). FIVE THOUSAND in a bank of MILLIONS of card carrying customers. If there were a million customers in my bank (and there are far more), the chances of my card being affected is less than 1%. ONE PERCENT. And on all of the days. The day I was going to treat myself to a big plate breakfast. But instead, my Friday morning was left to fate, who decided to tell me that I had crossed the fast food frequenter line and slapped my hand away from the eggs, hashbrowns, biscuit, sausage, pancakes, and sweet sweet sweet syrup.