Sign Your Card, Damnit

I’ve worked in a retail store that has been prone to credit card fraud.  My wife used to work in credit card disputes.  My close friend works fraud.  And in all my years, there’s one thing I never understood — why people don’t sign the back of their credit cards.  I can be a stickler for rules, and there was a point in time where I tried to make people sign their cards before I would accept them — even if they wrote “See ID” on the back of the card — but I gave up on that because it ended up pissing off more people than I wanted to deal with.  Still, I never understood why people didn’t sign the back of their cards.  (If you’re one of those people that writes “See ID” on the back of your card, this post is for you.)

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How My Son Made the Claw Machine His Bitch

The last few weeks have been pretty stressful for me.  I have a number of assignments I’m trying to get done in school, and there’s currently 9 days of school left.

Last night, I had some reading that I needed to do for one of my classes.  I have trouble concentrating on textbook reading, but I’ve found that walking on the treadmill helps me to concentrate.  (And hey, if I lose a few pounds in the process…)  So I walked…for almost 3 hours.  I walked 7.9 miles total.  That’s how long and dry this textbook reading is.

When emerged from my basement, I went upstairs and found my son trying to make Easy Mac out of a regular box of mac and cheese.  He had put the macaroni into a drinking glass, filled it with water, and was about to put it in the microwave for 3 1/2 minutes.  I quickly put a stop to it — partially because I could see third-degree burns in his future, but also because we were out of milk.  He was determined to try, however, so we took a trip to the grocery store.

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