A rite of passage is defined as an event that marks a person's transition from one status to another. So, with that being said, if someone gets a hold of your bank card - you transition from Daddy Warbucks to Little Orphan Annie in an instant...at least that's what it feels like.
Like puberty, this is one of those things that has to happen at some point in your life whether you're ready or not. I got 'the call' from a bank representative the other day, who informed me that my 'credit card has been compromised.' By the way, that's just a nice way of saying 'I'm sorry, but you're fucked for 7-10 days while we change your account information and issue you a new card.' Apparently, some bloke with crooked teeth is running around England treating himself to Fish 'N Chips on my precious dime.
That's just not my bag, baby...
In the grand scheme of all things unfortunate, this is really a minor convenience, if anything...however, it happened a few days before I was leaving for Florida. I always feel more secure when I have some plastic with me, in the event of emergencies - and by emergencies I mean buying a round of bombs at the bar for my friends.
The option of Travelers Cheques was brought to my attention, but I'm not Clark Griswold and this isn't 1983.
'This isn't a vacation anymore, it's a quest...a quest for fun!'