Things Aaaaalways have to get more interesting

Things can never just go as planned, can they? Nope, not with me. There always has to be one complication or another, and apparently this trip would be no different.

This past Saturday night was the usual, binge drinking at the local watering hole until blacking out. On the cab ride home, I didn't have any cash on hand so I had the cab driver pull over at an ATM and I got money and gave him his fare. I tried to ignore the homeless crazies selling their hemp crap, who are always hanging around. I walked over to get some drunk food when I realized that I didn't have my ATM card. I had left it in the machine. I sprinted over ready to ruin some homeless man's day, but no one was there, and no card. I called and cancelled it, and surprisingly no one else had fraudulently used it. The lady on the phone said it would take ten business days, and I laughed at her and went into a discourse about how whoever sends out Bank of America ATM cards is mentally defective and I should just save my time by swinging down to Atlanta and picking it up.

So at this point, I have no ATM/Debit card.

Three days later was the last night drinking in Phoenix. I fell down on the traintracks and am still bruised. Turns out that somewhere between the bar and my house, which is 200 yards, I lost my credit card as well. I'm guessing it was when I fell on the tracks, but I've walked them twice and found nothing but empty liquor bottles and other hobo nest-building materials. I tore apart my room unsuccessfully, and called to cancel that as well.

Now I also have no credit card.

Those were my only two points of access to money, or credit. What the fuck do I do now? I need to pay for gas, food, booze, and maybe a hooker on the way home. Do I bring my checkbook and cash checks all across America on my way back? Do I take out a thousand dollars in cash and race across America like some Pony Express rider trying to avoid getting hijacked? After careful deliberation I decided to just go to the bank and take out a thousand dollars. That way, if my car broke down, I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not some podunk town had a Bank of America or not. So I went to the bank.

Me: I'd like to take out a thousand dollars in small bills." (I didn't feel like some small gas station not being able to break a Franklin)

Teller: "Not a problem, 20's ok?"

I nodded, he started counting.

Teller: "Twenty, Forty, Sixty, Eighty, One Hundred."
"Twenty, Forty, Sixty, Eighty, Two Hundred."

As the count approached a thousand, the stack got huge and thick. I put it in my wallet and couldn't close it. But, my car was packed, my room was empty, and it was time to set out on an Adventure.