Blogging while not curling

Lately this blog has been all Week in Review posts, which is not at all what I intended to happen. November has been a busy month, at home and at work, so my blogging time has been greatly reduced from September and October.

For the last five weeks, Monday nights have been one of the busiest nights of the week, thanks to curling. Technically, I'm supposed to play only every second game, because I am splitting the cost with one other guy, but I got another couple games out of sparing for other missing players. Tonight is my first Monday off.

So here I was, sitting at home on a Monday evening for the first time in over a month, and I thought a new blog post would be a good idea. I am caught up on all of this week's TV, and I have been watching Mad Men's first season for something to do; it's definitely a good show, but not really the type of show I can marathon.

I'm going to start with a silly story that came to an unexpected end this week, and then write about whatever I want. Despite the title, this is not going to be one of those posts...

What the fuck, Scotiabank?

I have a lot of credit cards. Many of them are holdouts from my days of balance transfer shuffling, and the others are rewards cards. I am constantly seeking the best rewards program, and as better ones come along, I will shift all my spending to the best card. (Currently, Best Buy's Reward Zone Visa is the best deal out there, with rewards worth 1.25%. That sounds pretty poor, but for comparison's sake, my American Express Air Miles card earns approximately 0.65%.)

One night a couple months ago, while I was trying to watch TV, a telemarketer offered me a credit card over the phone. This was a new experience for me, as I didn't even have to apply. I've received and returned numerous pre-authorized credit card forms in the past through mail or on the internet, but never had someone call me out of the blue and give me a credit card. This was a SCENE rewards card from Scotiabank.

I should have turned the guy down, because I didn't need the card, and I doubt the rewards program is worth it to me, but it seemed the easiest way to get off the phone was to say yes. And, I thought, what the hey?--I don't have to put any effort into getting this card... (Why SCENE rewards is not a big deal to me: I don't go to movies all that much, and it's not the cost that keeps me away; it's the people and the crowds and the fact that it's just not a good experience in general.)

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I get a phone call from the closest Scotiabank branch. They had my credit card and I needed to come in to pick it up with two pieces of ID. What the fuck, Scotiabank? I started this story by saying this, but it bears repeating: I have lots of credit cards. I have never, ever had to pick up a credit card at a bank branch. Has Scotiabank not heard of the fucking mail?

So, anyway, I made the decision that I wasn't going to pick up the card. It was a stupid situation, I certainly didn't need the card, and I didn't want to deal with actually going into the bank branch. I was curious what would happen. I expected that they would eventually mail it to me.

Over the next month, Scotiabank sent me various letters reminding me to pick up my card--oh, so you do know about the mail system, Scotiabank!?--as well as the first two statements on the account. There were also a few calls from telemarketers asking how I liked the card so far, to which I responded that I didn't have it yet. When they asked why I hadn't picked it up yet, I told them that that was a hassle I didn't need.

This week I got my last letter from Scotiabank. Without any fanfare or explanation, it read that my account had been canceled. I guess you win this round, Scotiabank!

Oh, so I'm curling after all!

Well, shit, I have to cut this post short, because I just got the call. We are playing a late game this week (8:45--it's normally 6:45), and someone couldn't make it. Six weeks in a row for the cost of three! Good deal!