As mentioned elsewhere, I got a call from my bank’s fraud department a couple of weeks ago. It seems that while I was in Italy in February I neglected to take the necessary precautions with my Laser card on one or more occasions. Some some ne’er-do-wells did no well and I’m down forty quid and a debit card.
Right, well, apparently some wires got crossed. Turns out the forty quid they mentioned was the total of my last two transactions, which were in Dublin, which is why their computer flagged the two transactions in Milan on the same day. The two transactions that burned me for seven hundred chudding euro. The hell, like? I was ready to write off €40 as charming roguery, but what arsehole takes €700? I tell you, as soon as that money comes back into my account I’m booking a ticket over and I’m going to personally slap every Italian in the face*.
In the meantime I’m going to mildly freak out about where this month’s rent is coming from, and try to console myself by looking at some Manbabies.
*Yes, I’m reverse-ripping off My Name Is Earl.
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