Pulled up to the fuel pumps this afternoon. Pulled out the company fuel card and started the ritual. The pump told me to see the cashier. So I did. Gave her my card and she ran it through. Then she asked me how much I wanted to put on it.
That hasn't happened before.
But hey, if there wasn't something odd I wouldn't have had to come in. So...
”$400, I guess,” I said. “It won't take that.”
She bustled around the register, while I--
Looked at the card.
It wasn't the fleet fuel card.
It was my bank card.
My bank just got assimilated (resistance is futile—STOP THAT!), and the new management had to change everything. Including, of course, a new bank card.
Which I had in my wallet for the first time today.
It didn't look anything like MY card. Granted, it didn't look like my fleet card, either. But it did NOT-look like my bank card.
Which was almost enough to make me buy three or four hundred dollars worth of diesel fuel out of my own pocket. The company wouldn't have minded, I suspect, but...
I hurriedly explained matters to the lady, and she was nice enough to cancel the transaction, and the company ended up footing the bill. But it could have been embarrassing.
Not to mention expensive.
Monday, October 25, 2010
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