So, I walked over to the bank on my lunch and hit the ATM for this weekend’s allotment of cash. No big deal, I do it all the time, right? But this time as I retrieved my debit card from the slot on the cash machine, my fingertips detected a sharp point along the edge of the card. Odd, I thought… never felt anything sharp on the card before. A brief examination revealed that my card is developing a longitudinal crack that runs right along the bottom edge of the magnetic stripe. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my debit card is coming apart.

I’m thinking maybe I need to reconsider just how often I use the damn thing if I’m literally wearing it out. Strange to think that just 10 or 15 years ago, I was extremely uncomfortable with the very idea of a debit card. Because they can track you with every purchase you make, you know.

Apparently, I got over that fear at some point. Probably when I realized that if some mysterious them really is tracking my purchases, they’re getting the worse end of the deal. It must make for incredibly tedious reading. “Good lord,” they must be thinking, “doesn’t this guy ever go to a different coffee shop? Always the same damn places…”