Mercury Not-so-retrograde

I’m not pointing fingers at any one source but the problem is endemic.

I wanted to close a credit card account. Simple enough, or so it would seem. Not in real life.

After leaving the trailer park, even before I left, cognizant of the apparent winds of fate, I got rid of all mailing addresses except one, listed on the contact resource.

Same San Antonio PO I’ve had for a while.

As I started to close the account, I got bounced through at least three tiers of customer support, to security and back again. Last four digits, social, mother’s maiden name, color of my last bowel movement, promise of the first born male as a sacrifice, Elvis’s last known location.

The beat goes on.

Hypothesis: it’s easier to get a credit card than to close the account.

At the post office, there’s a broken door. Big sign, says, “use other door,” hand-lettered and all.

Have yet to get a decent image of that. Mercury?