Stuck

I’m stuck at JFK International in New York waiting for our very delayed airplane to arrive – unable to cancel my credit card account.

Why would I want to do that you ask?

Becky got a call from our credit card company asking if we’d charged massive amounts to our card at a gas station in Queens and another in New Jersey.  Not just gas stations, actually, but those quick check cash places you sometimes see on the side of town also littered with liquor and cigarette billboards.

I’ve been on the phone with our company three times so far and can’t keep a signal long enough to rectify the situation.  The last words I heard the last customer service agent say were “It looks likes someone set up a pin number for this account this morning.  Was that you, sir?”

Click.

No.  That wasn’t me.

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