I Am Jack's All-Encompassing Sense of Rage*

Yeah...

I'll just give you a treasure hunt for the fraud story. Go here and follow the links backward to the beginning.

I went to the police station to report the fraud. The police woman operating the reception window cleaned her entire desk off before so much as looking up at me then she told me that I needed to have a report from the bank to prove fraud before I could file a police report. The same bank that was suggesting I needed a police report before they could resolve my fraud claim.

Did you hear that ping? That was something in my soul completely fucking snapping.

As I walked toward the photography exhibit I got on the phone with the bank. I'll just hit the highlights for you.**

"Thank you for calling [Sk]ank of America, my name is Michael, how may I help you?"
"Michael, you need to kick me up to a supervisor and I don't care what you have to do to make that happen."
"I just need to get some information from you so I can pull your file up and then I can pass you to a supervisor."Blah blah blah stupid exchange of information.
"Now is there anything else you want to tell me before I transf..."
"Michael, it's a long story in which I have been completely fucked so..."
"Just let me put you on hold and I'll transfer you now."
"Exactly, you do not want to take this call."

Make sure you're reading my parts in my $15,000+ deep Cleopatra, Shakespearean trained voice, the one that means I'm either seducing you or about to beat you until my arm gets tired and then switch arms. Don't worry, it's easy to tell which.

"Hi my name is Barbara, I'm sorry to hear you've had such a confusing time. What can I do for you?"
"You can tell me what information you need to bring up my file while I tell you my story."

"...bullshit..."

"...I keep getting fucked!"

"...5 frigging phone calls..."

"Thank you for choosing [Sk]ank of America."
"Actually Barbara, since I assume we're being recorded I'd like to say for the recording that I didn't choose [Sk]ank of America. I was a NatWest customer and NatWest was bought by Fleet Bank and Fleet Bank was bought by you and I've just been along for the ride. I'm seriously considering not staying on.
"..."

Bottom line: I need to ignore all the information on the affidavit, sign it and return it. They will investigate the fraud and in a maximum of 45 days it will be completely resolved. Also, Barbara is very sorry that I was given so much "wrong, I'm sorry, confusing information."***

So then I went to where the photography exhibit was supposed to be but I couldn't seem to get in. There was a gate and it was weird and someone coming out said there was no exhibit. On my way home I passed a little gallery, "The Corridor Gallery," with a sign out front that said it was open. There was a man coming out with a card in his hand and I could see lights on inside so I tried the door. Locked. I rang the bell. No response. It seems I was not meant for art tonight.****

So I walked home past Choice Market and bought a cream cheese brownie and a dog biscuit because when I was a teenager and it was just me and my mom and things were sucking unwashed ass we would go to the grocery store and buy carts full of whatever we wanted to eat so spreading the comfort food wealth is second nature to me. I strongly suspect that most of the spoils of those trips can still be found at mom's house.

I ate half the brownie before I got home and made myself sick. Then I realized I'd forgotten to pay my health insurance and the customer service line was closed until Monday so I ate the other half.

*Name the movie from which I'm paraphrasing.

**Yes, I really said this stuff. Aren't you glad you don't work in customer service?

***While I was writing this Suzanne came through and got me not only a name but a nickname and a photo. Wanna see? If I were more compassionate, like Rich, I'd try saying "Love to you all, even you Ken" but I'm not quite there yet so I'm going to print out that picture and alter it to reflect how much I want to kick in his teeth.

****Who the hell is Art?