life without ID and access to your own money is strategic. it’s an exercise in complete and total devotion to the money in your pocket…right away you teach yourself to push off the minor addictions, rationing your money to necessary meals and expenditures.

it sucks.

but the past 48 hours have definitely highlighted the amount of money i could have spent, which is a good reminder.

i wouldn’t let some damn hooker have my wallet again just to teach myself a little spending control, but i’ll take the good with the bad.

tonight i remembered that i had an old wallet which over the good part of a year i’d grown really sick of, thus replacing it with a wallet that i’m
pretty sure
i hated even more.

this older wallet, scorned and relegated to my sock drawer,
with its soft black leather still not yet torn or worn through,
became the place i tucked away the less useful pieces of plastic that the chosen daily wallet couldn’t hold.

things like my old ID with the parent’s address.
my airline membership card, a $4 gift card to abercrombie (at least six years old), and a business card belonging to only god knows.

i stumbled across this wallet just now in the wake of that memory, in its sock drawer coffin, and discovered the aforementioned plastic relics along with no less than four (yes…four) old debit cards, doomed to the sock drawer in the wake of bank one’s demise to chase bank.

all read bank one on their face, and all worked perfectly fine before the merger of all mergers.

why didn’t i throw these out?

and now the question remains…has their day gone?
can i access my money without talking to a bank teller (some of the world’s most unusual and typically miserable people)?

tomorrow we shall see.
i will try all four.

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