Saturday, April 22, 2017

Vignette City 30.

*** ‘Vignette City’ is an ongoing project of daily writing and urban photography ***

To my credit, I think, I knew something new was up once that fact was made plain to me when the credit card company called and told me something might be up. They asked if I had gone SCUBA diving and I told them that I hadn’t been SCUBA diving in years. I felt that was the appropriate answer because they asked, “Have you been SCUBA diving?” and the only answer to that question is “Yes,” because I have been and I wasn’t going to lie about it. People had seen me.

But what they meant to ask was, “Have you been SCUBA diving recently?” to which I would have said, “No.”

They followed up. Asked for my information. I told them that I wanted their information because they called me. They told me it didn’t work like that. I told them I would call them back. They said fine. I hung up. I called them back. I waited on hold. On hold. Onhold. onholdonholdonholdonholdinahellisholdworldofholdingonhold. I regretted having hung up.

I didn’t always feel this way. Or think this way. Or feel this way at all. All staccato chittery like a Chinese-made robot devil squirrel. Not even jittery, but like some constant, resonant jitter. Some super string of eleventh dimensional jit stretching out from one end of the universe all the way back around it. I feel anxious, is what I’m saying. 

Finally someone picked up and I verified my information.

But that’s when things got complicated because after the hanging up happened, they had called my secondary phone number on file. “I don’t have a secondary phone number. This is my only phone number.” When they called my secondary phone number, I answered. “No I did not.” Secondary Me told them that not only had the credit card been stolen, but the primary phone as well. “Well none of that is true.” The Secondary Me had verified my information and a new card was being issued to Secondary Me at my new address. “I don’t have a new address!” And now Primary Me - that’s Me - had been reported to the authorities. “I am going to explain this using very small words,” I said, “I am me.” They told me to expect to get a call from said authorities and that this conversation is being recorded, but then right after telling me they were recording, they hung up. What was the point of telling me? And are they still recording? And if so, what are they getting out of that?




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