Dear inconsiderate lout,
I would like to take this opportunity to verbally punch you in the face, since I have no option to physically perform this task on your person. I'm sure you will accept this verbal punch in the spirit it is intended. That's right. Pure, unadulterated annoyance.
I call you a lout, but chances are that is exactly what you are not. In fact, I refer to you as a single human being, yet I suspect you are many more than that. From now on, I will automatically correct that statement to read 'a group of human beings who must all be single, mostly because they are contemptible arseholes'. There, much better.
I write this correspondence, because, just shy of a month ago, you stole my fucking wallet. Not only did you steal my wallet, but you promptly hopped on a tram, and took a little ride to the closest ATM that isn't right next to my workplace, and withdrew all of my money from my bank account, plus another three hundred dollars for good measure, using my very own bank card. What did that bank card ever do to you, you monster?
Now while this whole general umbrella act of wallet and money theft was a bit shitty and annoying, it's not what lies at the heart of my annoyance with you. I'm glad you didn't do something rude like mug me or beat me up, though that said it would've have made a far more interesting story, and given me the chance to feel very clever for at least being able to tell you to fuck off before being smacked in the face for my efforts. However, that is a small concession.
What you have managed to do, is steal both my bank card, and magically acquire my PIN. And no, for the last time, I didn't write it on the fucking card. You'll have noticed that my card has a credit facility on it. I sincerely wish you had used that instead of MY FUCKING BANK ACCOUNT AND PIN NUMBER. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I'D HAVE MY MONEY BACK NOW. You know what else I'd have? MY SANITY AND MY DIGNITY. Why do I not currently have these intangible items in my possession? BECAUSE THE COMBINED FORCES OF THE VICTORIAN POLICE AND A CERTAIN FRIGGING BANK CREATE ALL HELL ON EARTH AND LET IT LOOSE RIGHT INTO MY VERY LIFE.
Do you know what the police asked me when I reported it stolen? Do you? Right after I explained that money had been withdrawn from my account, and that no, *sigh* I did not write my PIN on the card, the cop in question asked me:
'How do you know it's been stolen?'
Seriously.
When I went to see the police in person, they told me to go to a bank with a card they had filled in, to take it in, hand it to them, and the problem would be resolved. I can only assume it's some kind of magic card, because as far as I can see with my non-invisible bank/police ink reading eyes is this:
To.....*my name here*.....
Constable .....*cops name here*....
attended this address today but you were unavailable.
Would you please contact
.....*location*..... Police Station on telephone ......*blank*.....
The icing on the cake is what is presumably meant to be today's date, written as 1/9/08. Clever.
The problem with this, team of single people, is that I actually need a piece of paper from this establishment in order for the fraud group at the bank to actually investigate the fraud, let alone return my fucking money. I suspect this fabled return of funds may never, ever, happen. This is unfortunate, since unlike knowing you're not going to get your rental bond back or something of a similar nature, I don't get to trash a damned thing.
You absolute mother fuckers.
Sincerely,
The Rantolotl.
I would like to take this opportunity to verbally punch you in the face, since I have no option to physically perform this task on your person. I'm sure you will accept this verbal punch in the spirit it is intended. That's right. Pure, unadulterated annoyance.
I call you a lout, but chances are that is exactly what you are not. In fact, I refer to you as a single human being, yet I suspect you are many more than that. From now on, I will automatically correct that statement to read 'a group of human beings who must all be single, mostly because they are contemptible arseholes'. There, much better.
I write this correspondence, because, just shy of a month ago, you stole my fucking wallet. Not only did you steal my wallet, but you promptly hopped on a tram, and took a little ride to the closest ATM that isn't right next to my workplace, and withdrew all of my money from my bank account, plus another three hundred dollars for good measure, using my very own bank card. What did that bank card ever do to you, you monster?
Now while this whole general umbrella act of wallet and money theft was a bit shitty and annoying, it's not what lies at the heart of my annoyance with you. I'm glad you didn't do something rude like mug me or beat me up, though that said it would've have made a far more interesting story, and given me the chance to feel very clever for at least being able to tell you to fuck off before being smacked in the face for my efforts. However, that is a small concession.
What you have managed to do, is steal both my bank card, and magically acquire my PIN. And no, for the last time, I didn't write it on the fucking card. You'll have noticed that my card has a credit facility on it. I sincerely wish you had used that instead of MY FUCKING BANK ACCOUNT AND PIN NUMBER. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I'D HAVE MY MONEY BACK NOW. You know what else I'd have? MY SANITY AND MY DIGNITY. Why do I not currently have these intangible items in my possession? BECAUSE THE COMBINED FORCES OF THE VICTORIAN POLICE AND A CERTAIN FRIGGING BANK CREATE ALL HELL ON EARTH AND LET IT LOOSE RIGHT INTO MY VERY LIFE.
Do you know what the police asked me when I reported it stolen? Do you? Right after I explained that money had been withdrawn from my account, and that no, *sigh* I did not write my PIN on the card, the cop in question asked me:
'How do you know it's been stolen?'
Seriously.
When I went to see the police in person, they told me to go to a bank with a card they had filled in, to take it in, hand it to them, and the problem would be resolved. I can only assume it's some kind of magic card, because as far as I can see with my non-invisible bank/police ink reading eyes is this:
To.....*my name here*.....
Constable .....*cops name here*....
attended this address today but you were unavailable.
Would you please contact
.....*location*..... Police Station on telephone ......*blank*.....
The icing on the cake is what is presumably meant to be today's date, written as 1/9/08. Clever.
The problem with this, team of single people, is that I actually need a piece of paper from this establishment in order for the fraud group at the bank to actually investigate the fraud, let alone return my fucking money. I suspect this fabled return of funds may never, ever, happen. This is unfortunate, since unlike knowing you're not going to get your rental bond back or something of a similar nature, I don't get to trash a damned thing.
You absolute mother fuckers.
Sincerely,
The Rantolotl.
5 comments:
Do we now need any further proof that the Victorian Police clearly only recruit from those who are finding it challenging to learn to print their names? Or maybe the date thing is just because the cops really are living in the past? I suggest putting up signs around your workplace asking if the aforementioned group of single people would be kind enough to send in a stat dec that they did indeed thieve your wallet and use your card and that no, the PIN was not written on it...
You could go one step further and ask them to fall in a puddle whilst punching their mother/s in the face?
hmm, maybe you can trash your place twice as badly before you leave to make up for it?
Gah! I hate to ask but how DID they get your PIN?
mmm, fucked if I know - there's a dodgy backpacker joint next to the atm I usually use, so I can only assume it was some kind of watch PIN/steal card dealy.
9 days before I find out if the bank buys my story and gives me my cash back. Tick tock.
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