The ATM from Hell
| written on 11/12/95 |
When Charlotte (my car pooler) and I parted ways this evening, I headed towards a cash machine at a bank in the shopping center. Charlotte asks me where I'm going, I tell her, and she points out that there is a drive through cash machine for the bank at an island in the parking lot. Good idea. I get in my car, and get in line behind another car in the drive through.
My turn comes. I pull up, put my Senate Federal Credit Union card in the machine and ask it to fork over some dough. The screen reads, "" in glowing green letters. I wait. Five minutes, Seven minutes, ten minutes, "WAIT WHILE PROCESSING TRANSACTION". A couple of cars are waiting behind me, and I have better things to do, so I hit the cancel button. Nothing. Cancel, cancel, cancel. Nothing. Cancel, clear, enter. Nothing. Clenched fist on every key on the pad. Nothing. I wait some more and then walk back and explain to the cars behind me, tell them of my dilemma and they thank me and leave. I'm alone in a test of wills with Mr. Money. I'm sitting now in my car which I've turned off. Sitting in the drivers seat, facing the machine with the door open and my feet on the pavement. Through the rolled down window I'm pressing buttons and looking for some sign of life. How long am I supposed to wait? Do I drive away to let this machine spit my card out for the next dirtbag who walks along? Who can I call? I've been around computers enough to know when something is hung. This sucker is hung. Lacking a reset button and severely pissed off, I bang my car door against the machine a couple of times. OK, time to give up. I drive over to the other machine (the one I was headed to before Chalotte pointed me to the drive through, thanks Charlotte) to look for a phone number for the bank so I can call in the morning. It's 7:45pm, well after dark now that we've fallen back, but through the glass I can see there are two women standing inside the dark bank lobby. I wave to them and shout, "THE MACHINE ATE MY CARD". They respond, but I can't hear and one of them tentatively approaches the glass. "THE MACHINE ATE MY CARD!", I shout. "Was it a Signet Bank card?", she asks. "No". "That's bad. But there's nothing you can do about it until tomorrow" she tells me. She shouts the banks phone number to me and I write it down on a deposit envelope. A lot of people are loitering in the parking lot, and I as head back to my car one asks me, "How ya doin?". "I've been better", I reply. When I get back to my car, I watch two other cars drive up to Mr. Money and drive away frustrated when they can't get their card in the machine which still says it's processing my transaction. At least some of my pain is being shared. Still not ready to just drive away, I notice a police car has arrived at the bank and the women are on the sidewalk speaking to the officer. I watch another car go up to the teller and give up, meanwhile the cop drives over. I step out of my car and start to walk toward the police officer who has stepped out of his car. The bank women have come about halfway across the lot to the island and stopped. Before I can speak the officer shouts, "STOP AND TAKE YOUR HANDS OUT OF YOUR POCKETS!". What? "STOP AND TAKE YOUR HANDS OUT OF YOUR POCKETS. TURN AROUND AND WALK BACK TO YOUR CAR. I'M GOING TO PAT YOU DOWN". He frisks me. I'm clean. Now that they know I'm not hiding a machete, or even excercising my Virginia right to carry a concealed weapon, The officer asks, "Do you know anything about an alarm?", no, I just know that this goddamn machine has been processing my transaction for 40 minutes! "Did you hit the machine", he asks. "Maybe a little. I work with computers, I know how to fix them". The women approach and tell me that my card has been captured and my problem is with my own financial institution. They reassure me that the card won't come back out, it's fallen into a basket. Since it's a "foreign" card rather than a Signet bank card, it will be destroyed first thing in the morning. "If you had a Signet card that wouldn't happen". Great lady, sign me up. This has really sold me on your shit eating bank. I point out that their fucked up machine is still saying "", and that it won't allow another card to be inserted. Your machine hasn't captured my renegede card, it's hijacked a perfectly innocent card! "Oh yeah, look, that's wierd", she replies. They tell me that with luck they might be able to catch my card in the morning before it's destroyed. The cop tells them they better make an OUT OF ORDER sign for their machine. I go home and have a beer or two. The next day the bank manager calls and leaves me a message that my card has been recovered. I pick it up later and he apologizes for any inconvenience I've suffered. But I haven't been anywhere near the place since, as I'm afraid that next time I won't be so lucky. Next time, I won't escape the ATM from Hell. |
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