So if you’ve been reading my stories lately, you know my mom died two weeks ago and I returned to Frosty Canada to be with family and friends. The whole trip sucked the life out of me, not to mention left me flat broke.
I love traveling. I really do. I love almost absolutely everything about it. Almost being the key word here. I can generally roll with the glitches. Shit happens. I get it. People get irritated. Airports can be a nightmare. If you have done any traveling you know what I’m talking about.
You know I like to be cheery and optimistic. I do my best. But…every now and then the Italian in me comes out, and it ain’t pretty.
So traveling is expensive af. Especially when you’re going from one country to another. Flights, food, hotel rooms, taxis, like, everything. I ain’t rich. Far from it. This trip was hella expensive and my kid paid for like 90% of it. God bless him. Good thing he loves his momma. ❤
I had enough money to get me through the time I was there. The trip back home was touch and go. I was running on borrowed funds, a song and a prayer, counting every fucking penny to make sure I had enough to get me all the way back to Guatemala.
This is when it started going downhill and what this whole rant is about (ya, it’s gonna be a rant).
I had an overnight stay in Toronto and hummed and hawed about whether I should get a room or camp out in the airport. The latter didn’t excite me and at the last minute I chose the first option. My funds were super tight but I took a chance.
In booking the room from the airport hotel phone I told the girl I was paying cash after she asked for my credit card number. I already knew I didn’t have enough on my card to cover this. She said that’s fine, it’s just a security deposit or some shit like that. Ok cool.
I get to the hotel, take out my money and she says my card was declined. Yes, I know, that’s why I’m paying cash. She says oh no, we still need your card. It’s hotel policy.
So let’s keep in mind here for one minute, I’m tired, it’s been an extremely long and depressing time in Sudbury, I want to sleep and cry alone somewhere. It’s suffice to say, I was not really in a good mood.
Getting back to me and Felicia. I’m trying to tell her I have cash, here’s my money for the room and why the hell do you need my card? It’s hotel policy she says.
Felicia, tell me then, what exactly does this hotel policy entail? She couldn’t answer me. She just said they need a card to secure something. I think I blocked her out once rage set in. Her lips were moving, I’m sure she was saying something somewhat intelligent, though I highly doubt it.
She asks if I have a debit card then. Yes I do but I know the last little bit of money I have is on there. Why do I have to give you my debit card?
I’M GIVING YOU CASH!!!! What don’t you understand about that? Why isn’t my money good enough to pay for this fucking room?? I don’t understand and now I’m freaking the fuck out because I’m tired of arguing with Felicia and I want to go lay down.
Also after arguing with her, I want 10 shots of tequila and want to smoke 20 cigarettes (and burn the hotel down).
I see my fight isn’t getting me anywhere and I reluctantly hand over my debit card. I’m nervous. It may or may not go through. If it doesn’t, what happens then? Do I sleep on the street? Do you call security to get me out of the hotel lobby and ship me back to the airport?
And why isn’t my money good enough? I don’t fucking understand!
The card goes through, I’m done with her and she is more than done with me.
So here it is two days later, I’m home safe and sound and still out $100 from the ‘security deposit’ Felicia assured me would go back on my card the next morning. I arrived with a little under $10 to my name. All bank accounts empty and credit card maxed out, not to mention my fridge is empty.
Thanx Felicia. Fuck you and your hotel policy.
But my point of this whole rant is this…
What happened to our money? Our cash dollars!! Why are they no longer an acceptable means of paying for things? Did I miss another memo? Am I still living in the stone age? I don’t get it. Colour me clueless.
Are we going to see a day when we no longer exchange money for services and our whole lives will be lived out on plastic? This scares me. So if you lose your plastic you’re fucked? God help us all 😵
Maybe they’ll be microchipping our banking information on our asses? I hope I don’t miss that memo.
With the reduction of the use of money, does this also mean that we won’t need people anymore (like Felicias)? Is this all supposed to make life simpler? Easier? More self sufficient? I beg to differ.
It might make some things easier, but certainly not everything. This hotel incident really opened my eyes to how fast things are changing in the first world. How things are evolving. It’s frightening.
I think I’ll stick to my third world living. Simple, easy, beautiful and with real paper money.
Peace and Love
xo iva xo