Tired and Banking

After handing in my last ever History Paper (1200 words of self directed drivel), I visited Sainsburys. A foolish mistake shopping sleep deprived, hungry and exhausted. After sobering up off the caffeine this morning I realised that fish fingers, cordial, coffee, hand soap and three different types of pasta really was pathetic and maybe my cave man state of mind was merely another victim to consumer psychology and sales. The fact I left my card in the chip in pin machine I won't put

down to exhaustion just stupidity.

However thank you very much to the very nice human being who phoned the bank to declare my bank card lost yesterday, either your a genuinely nice fella . Or your just a fraudster who viewed my balance and decided it wasn't worth the effort.

Being cardless I was forced to que in the bank for cash, sadly after consuming most the cordial the call of nature came just 5 minutes into the queue subjecting me to a Full Monty dance. After 15 minutes of queuing I was now performing the River Dance.
When it was my turn I was asked to provide the cashier with my driving licence for ID. I though for Natwest this transaction was going rather smoothly, I signed the sheet in a sorted makeshift squiggle after the pen was indeed taller than the cord it was attached to and waited for my cash. Suddenly in one fowl swoop she placed the money back in the till and in a sympathetic voice declared "for security reasons I can't go any further with the transactions as your signature doesn't match your I.D".
Fairpoint I thought .... but just a moment I suggested. Surely I'm a very similar match the photograph of me on the right hand side of my driving Licence, I ruffled my hair and smiled just to match the 16 year old me on the card. At this point she seemed a little confused and went away to her line manager. I'm praying the question she asked wasn't "this guy looks the same as his i.d, can we trust him?" I like to think I don't look that shifty! never the less common sense prevailed and I walked away with my cash.

Anywho I must dash theres a stranger scavenging in our front garden! I just poped my head out the door to see what he was doing, and he though there was a scrap metal pipe next to our window. Sadly I had to tell him that was indeed the gutter attached to the house. However next time he fancies trespassing try the back garden theres plenty of crap out there we need shifting!