And Here Is… Her Therapist’s Phone Number?

Labor day weekend my family went to Kiawah Island, South Carolina for a long beach weekend and also to celebrate my sister’s thirtieth birthday.  My dad, sisters and I all arrived the day before my step-mom did so he sent us out with his credit card to go pick up a pizza for dinner and a few groceries for breakfast and lunch the next day.  On about 14 different occasions my step-mom had reminded us to do our grocery shopping at the Piggly Wiggly, not the the new fancy shmancy grocery store on the island.  Piggly Wiggly was a good 5 miles down the island and the new grocery store was so much nicer and closer…. total Whole Foods kinda deal.  So we promptly ignored her advice and stopped at the fancy grocery store because we were only picking up a few things.  I really don’t know what happened next, but somehow we ended up at the check out line at the bill came to $398.  For some reason or another my dad’s credit card got declined.  Both my sisters ran away.  I started having a freak out because I was right in the middle of closing one bank account and transferring all the money I had to my name to a completely different bank account and at the moment all my money was in limbo and I didn’t know which account it was in but I hadn’t planned on spending any money that weekend since I’d be with my family and they’d be paying.  So I stupidly charged $400 worth of groceries to the bank account which I had just transferred money out of, collected our groceries and headed to the car.

At this point my sisters and I were thinking “how on earth did that just happen?”  “Well, Claire, I’m not sure that a $9 jar of roasted red pepper dip is really necessary.  Neither is a pound of freshly sliced imported swiss cheese.”  So we sort through the groceries to figure out what we could return, which was most of it.  By this point I was just done.  My sister’s had ditched me at the check out line so I was letting them deal with returning everything.  I took out my driver’s license, debit card, and then I wanted to write down my pin number in case they needed it so I grabbed a random business card that was in my wallet and wrote in on the back of it.  My sisters proceeded in to return the groceries and came out 5 minutes later laughing.  The story goes that my sister Claire walked up to customer service and said “We spent too much money and need to return some things.  Here is the receipt.  Here is our sister’s driver’s license.  Here is her debit card.  And here is…. her therapist’s phone number?”  Apparently I had written my pin number on the back of my psychologists business card.

Should’ve gone to The Pig.

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