So Allison wrote about revenge and doing things not-quite-legal to get it.  She also mentioned apartment complex revenge, and it reminded me of a story.  I was going to type it in an email to her, but then I decided to type it here, since I never do anymore.

A few years ago, I moved to a very nice and very expensive apartment complex in Houston.  The manager acted like I was lucky they were letting the likes of me live there... you know the Upscale Apartment Manager Attitude... but let me move in, they did.  I even rented a covered parking space near my apartment, and was given a 4 cent "parking permit" to hang on my rearview mirror.  I also filled out a card that had the make, model and license plate information on it.

By now, you probably know what happened.  I woke up, and went out to my car, right to my parking space which was... empty.

A call to the office confirmed that my car had been towed the night before.  The driver didn't feel that he was in the wrong, because I didn't have the four cent "parking permit" on the car, and they were sorry, but that's just how it is... go pay 112 dollars, and you can have your car back.

The asked if they had my information on file that I'd given them, you know, the make, model and license info about my car?  And they said they had, and the tow truck driver had it, but since I didn't have the stupid piece of cardboard hanging on my car, it was towed.  I have never been so mad, and revenge was called for.

Once I got my car back, I took a good look at the permit, and it said on the back, "For reorders, please call..." so I did.

I then took the 500 parking permits I had, and used my rock 'em, sock 'em Xerox doctoring skills (honed on many, many Junior High progress reports) to make a fake letter, on letterhead and with Bitchy Upscale Apartment Manager's signature on it, that said "Congratulations, for paying your rent on time, you have won one months worth of covered parking in ANY space.  Just make sure you have this "parking permit" in place."

In the still of the night, I put these letters on every door of the apartment complex, and then left town for a week.  When I got back, there was a memo on my door: "Please be advised that we are no longer using parking permits.  You will have to register your car with the office if you wish to park in your covered space."

I know they knew I did it, but there was no real proof, and I didn't do anything that caused any damage, or at least not more than 112 dollars worth.  They were always very nice to me after that... perhaps deep down inside, they thought it was funny.  I'd like to think so.

Wow.  So here I am, writing.  I'm suprised, too.

I debated before writing this, because I hate website entries about the website about... well, you know.  Too "meta" for me. (so is using "meta" as a word, but whatever.)

Friends, relatives, hell, even my own mother have been asking me why I haven't written lately.  I don't have a great answer, other than, "I dunno."

Actually, I DO know.  Work has been kicking into high gear and taking a lot of energy and time.  Last week was notably horrid. 

When work gets crazy, I withdraw from my social schedule somewhat and focus on that, which I think is as it should be.  I had to work very hard last week to maintain boundries and keep work on the front burner.

I've had to do that a fair amount lately... make sure I get enough sleep, etc.  And let's face it, "Last night, I skipped the Leather Social so that I could sleep twelve hours" isn't exactly riveting news to put on a website.  But that's been my life: work, work, work.  And some sleep.

Of course, I've still done some fun stuff.  I spent the weekend a few weekends back in San Antonio attending a very well-done bar run, and I have some other social weekend-type things coming up in the next few months, but for now, work has to be a priority.

Not that my site was ever totally exciting anyway.  I wrote a fair amount about stupid, mundane things like midnight Wal-Mart runs and the like.  I used to take random photos on the web and rake people over the coals with my bitchy, sarcastic wit, but I haven't done that, either.  Perhaps I lack dicipline.  Or I just haven't felt like it.

Oh well, no matter,  You have this post to read.  I'll do better, I swear.

A few weeks ago, salesclerks and waiters all over the Central Texas area started getting mad at me. It wasn't because I was surly, or that I made a mess in the store or restaurant (as the case may be)... nope. It was because the magnetic stripe on my Visa Checkcard stopped swiping.

This sucks, because anytime you need to spend money, someone has to enter in a million different numbers. Also, my Checkcard is also my ATM card, so I couldn't withdraw cash with that card... I had to use a separate ATM card... and that's no fun.

So on Tuesday, I go into the bank, sit and wait. Eventually, an kind-looking older lady called me by name over to her desk with a smile.

I explained my situation and she took the offending card and tried to swipe it on her machine, but alas, it didn't swipe. Glad she tested me... I could have been lying, you know?

She told me that there was no problem, and that a replacement card could be sent to me in a week to ten days. I told her that would be very nice, and this time, could you please not put my full, God-given name (yes! middle name and all!) on the card?

She agreed that my checkcard didn't have to be quite that formal and proceeded to type WAY more into computer than "Please Send Tim a New Card"

Damn if she didn't type what seemed like the equivalent of a ten page document in front of me, all into my super-secret bank record. Or she was a frustrated novelist and was in Word, tapping away while I was there... I don't know.

Then, It happened. She looked at me, smiled and cut my debit card in half.

I was aghast. I mean, the damn card worked! It only didn't swipe! I still had money! I have things that auto-bill to that card! Oh GOD I'm going to die without my CheckCard PLEASE OH GOD PLEASE.

I was a bit concerned and confused. I asked why she cut my Checkcard in half, and she explained that I couldn't have two of them, and a new one would be in my mailbox in ten days.

I explained that I didn't have TWO of them, I had NONE of them, and that I needed my card NOW NOW NOW and TOMORROW and NEXT WEEKEND.

Fucking bank.

There has to be a better way, I'm sorry, but there does. I'm going to guard this new card with my life, because it pretty much runs it.

I use my CheckCard for EVERYTHING. I don't like to borrow money on a credit card (even for a few weeks) and if I have cash, I'll spend cash... the key to effective money management for me is to use the debit card. Alas, I don't have one.

The upside? I couldn't go shopping this weekend, or out to eat, or to anything that required money, so I didn't spend much. That's a nice side benefit, but I'm going to be out of town next weekend, and I need my card, dammit!