So I’m at the post office this afternoon to send off my tax information to my accountant. I know, I know, it’s kind of late, but I’m sending it express mail so that it’ll get there tomorrow afternoon. That’ll give them plenty of time to get it in to the IRS.
I go up to the counter to get the express mail envelope. They’ve got a trainee working there; I’ve got no problem with that. Everybody’s got to learn on the job sometimes. And he’s slow, but he’s thorough. He gets everything taken care of, and the envelope is sealed, and he tells me it’ll be $13.65.
Well.
I hand him my credit card. He takes it, then turns it over and looks at the back for what seems like a long time.
“Oh, um…” he says.
“Yes?”
“Um, I guess your signature rubbed off…”
(The strip that you’re supposed to sign on is almost gone.)
“Well, that’s true. But I never signed it. I want people to ask for my ID when I use my credit card.”
“Um, it has to be signed.”
“Can’t you just look at my ID?”
“Um, let me ask my supervisor.”
He does, and she goes and asks her supervisor. Meanwhile, the line is backing up behind me. She (his immediate supervisor) comes back.
“I’m sorry, the card has to be signed. Maybe you could sign it off to the side.”
I try, but using a ball-point pen (which is all they have) has no effect at all on the slippery plastic of the card; that’s why the strip is a different material.
“It’s not working,” I say, and look up at her.
“Do you have another credit card, or a checkbook, or anything?”
“No, this is all I have on me. Why can’t you just ask for my ID?”
“I’m sorry sir. We could just give you back your items.”
“I guess you better.”
They open the envelope, hand me back my tax materials, say “I’m sorry” one more time, and I leave.
Why in bloody blue FUCK do they require credit cards to be signed? Don’t they realize it’s actually less secure to sign your credit card? When the card is signed, anybody can use it. Especially if they want me to sign it right in front of them! I could be anybody! If it’s not signed, and they ask for my ID, only someone with my name (of which there is at least one other person in the world, but let’s face it, not many) can use it! ARRGHH!
Kind of lame, I know, but I was really pissed off. That’s 30 minutes of my life I’ll never get back, and it was all for nothing!