at least I got a dinner out of it . . .

The saga of the debit card continues.

So Becca's new card arrived in the mail, and on Tuesday I brought it to her. Bought her dinner, stopped in Duane Reade for shampoo and laundry detergent . . .

On Wednesday she called me and told me the new card was defective. The bank is sending another one.

I think this time she's coming home to get her card.

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