Stupid ATM, Stupid Me

Sometimes when things go wrong, the aforementioned things perfectly synchronize with each other to form a deadly sequential combination of wrong things which can make even Gautam Buddha'ish kind of people go completely insane. If I’m not making much sense, it’s because as I write this a furious me is sitting at the footsteps of a rally stupid ATM which having swallowed my debit card with great gusto, now refuses to return it back.

In an instant I'm reduced from a savvy laptop carrying IT professional to a tense blubbering fool trying to desperately call SBI or SBM help lines to report a case of ATM mishap. WITH NO AVAIL of course!! By now I can feel droplets of bile form in my stomach (liver?) as my body prepares for a fight or flight situation. But having about 5 million years of evolutionary catch up to do, my body is totally unprepared for anything in this situation. (don’t correct me about 5 million years if you know better. I’m in front of the ATM now with no Internet access to verify this fact. Not that I verify facts that I otherwise write in my blog anyway...) In an ideal case a human body should have learnt by now that it is clearly of no use producing bile, adrenalin and other such stuff when it encounters either a toxic alien dubbed 'government official', or any of the toxic alien establishments dubbed 'Government offices'. Few notable examples of toxic alien establishments in Bangalore would be the

• Government Banks
• BDA
• RTO
• KEB

The toxic aliens and their establishments present a paradox : they claim to exist purely for the benefit of humankind but proceed to suck the life out of every human being upon contact. They have a very brutal form of torture: in todays world where giant leaps for mankind occur every nanosecond, they do nothing. Or they take so long to do something that you forget what they should have done in the first place, thus creating the illusion that they do nothing.

Anyway, my body far from being the ideal one (in more respects than I'd like to admit) continues to produce copious amounts of adrenalin as I wait for the bank to open, making me imagine with much relish how soothing it would be to box the ears of the first toxic alien I come across. Finally at 8:45 am a toxic alien appears. I don't box his ears.I tell him my predicament.

Me: Hi! Good Morning! (have to use this kind of bullshit platitude to put the toxic alien in a good mood) Do you know what I’m supposed to do; my debit card is stuck in the ATM machine.

Toxic Alien: Hmmm. Why are you sitting on the newspaper? It belongs to the bank employees you know.

Me: #@$%^&!! I’ve missed my bus , I'll miss the meeting at office and I’ve been waiting for 40 minutes like a watchman in front of your ATM , all the while shooing away other hapless customers, so that their cards don't pile up behind mine in the goddamn machine, and you’re worried about newspaper ? NEWSPAPER!! Come on! By the way , I’m considerate enough to sit on the classified section listing houses and plots for sale, none of which any bank employee dare buy in this wonderful economic climate that we have. And do you expect me to sit on the dust adorned ATM steps while I’m wearing a shiny black pant that happens to be both washed and ironed today?? Balls to you.... Of course I don’t say this. I was fond of my debit card and wanted it back. I turned sycophant again.

'Oh! Sorry about that. I thought someone else left it here by mistake.'

He glared at me, asked me to wait for five minutes and went into the ATM booth. I stood at the doorsteps of the adjoining SBM branch office. Five agonizing minutes later, he came up to me with the card and said 'Here, it had fallen down under the ATM machine. Our ATM's are very good, they don’t take the cards into them, you know. Next time be more careful'.

I stood there open-mouthed and dumbstruck. I mean, how the hell could the card fly out of the slot and place itself neatly under the ATM machine without me noticing?? The alien looked pretty earnest though (I mean earnest; he wasn’t pretty by any means. To me at least.), and I didn’t think he'd be lying about the card having fallen down. I forgave him for that.

But what about the last line - 'next time be more careful’? Nice move on his part-to put the blame back on me and make me feel guilty? To deprive me of my one source of toxic alienic punching bag? No way. I’m going to hold the stupid ATM responsible for wrecking my tight daily schedule(made tight solely by my inveterate slothfulness and procrastination) And I’m going to hammer out a blog on this , however stupid it may seem! Aaagrh!!