Huis clos’d to our own incompetence
Well, i now know where Sartre drew the inspiration for Existentialism: the French banking system. That feeling that nothing really matters, that personal choice is an illusion, and that you are damned no matter what you do is clearly and obviously a result of trying to interact with a French bank.
Suite to my last post, i received four letters in the mail on Tuesday. One told me my bank card was ready for pick-up at the bank and that the pin code would be sent separately; the second was the pin code for my bank card, the third informed me that my visa card was ready for pick-up at the bank and that the pin code would be sent separately; the fourth was the pin code for my visa. Now, there are two interesting things about this batch of mail. Number one, i was not aware i had even signed up for a visa card, no one explained that i was signing up for a visa card, and i don't really want a new visa card (see above for personal choice being an illusion). Number two, by sending the pick-up letters and pin code letters separately yet on the same day it seems evident that French banks are working under the assumption that mail thieves only steal odd numbered pieces of mail.
Anywho, off to the bank. Finally having documentary evidence that my bank card(s) had indeed arrived, i was confident i could pick them up and never have to deal with another human being at my bank for the duration of my stay in Paris. But no. Upon presenting them to the receptionist i was informed that these letters, which clearly said my bank cards were ready to be picked up, did not actually mean my bank cards were ready to be picked up (it was an exchange worthy of Beckett). She informed me that they were just sent out automatically and that i would have to wait for a real notice to come and pick up my cards. I am assuming this notice will manifest itself as stigmata on my hands and feet or perhaps as a discarded Russian space capsule crashing outside my window.
So, until you hear about any new miracles, or vodka-related space accidents, you can safely assume i remain sans bank cards.
ps. I held back two days on posting this just to think up a semi-clever title. ... Yes, you're right, i should be ashamed.
Suite to my last post, i received four letters in the mail on Tuesday. One told me my bank card was ready for pick-up at the bank and that the pin code would be sent separately; the second was the pin code for my bank card, the third informed me that my visa card was ready for pick-up at the bank and that the pin code would be sent separately; the fourth was the pin code for my visa. Now, there are two interesting things about this batch of mail. Number one, i was not aware i had even signed up for a visa card, no one explained that i was signing up for a visa card, and i don't really want a new visa card (see above for personal choice being an illusion). Number two, by sending the pick-up letters and pin code letters separately yet on the same day it seems evident that French banks are working under the assumption that mail thieves only steal odd numbered pieces of mail.
Anywho, off to the bank. Finally having documentary evidence that my bank card(s) had indeed arrived, i was confident i could pick them up and never have to deal with another human being at my bank for the duration of my stay in Paris. But no. Upon presenting them to the receptionist i was informed that these letters, which clearly said my bank cards were ready to be picked up, did not actually mean my bank cards were ready to be picked up (it was an exchange worthy of Beckett). She informed me that they were just sent out automatically and that i would have to wait for a real notice to come and pick up my cards. I am assuming this notice will manifest itself as stigmata on my hands and feet or perhaps as a discarded Russian space capsule crashing outside my window.
So, until you hear about any new miracles, or vodka-related space accidents, you can safely assume i remain sans bank cards.
ps. I held back two days on posting this just to think up a semi-clever title. ... Yes, you're right, i should be ashamed.
posted by Ken at
4:09 AM
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