Saturday-Shoplifter Stevie

So at the end of my last post I mentioned that I had thought I'd had my purse stolen and then I tried as I thought, unsuccessfully, to cancel my Commerzbank card, and got the neighbours upstairs involved in the cancelling before Stevie came up holding the purse that had been sitting on the sofa.

As things turned out I had quite a lot on my mind the next day what with people poking about with my eyes and then an afternoon split between entertaining the kids and mulling over the prospect of needles in my eye every 8 weeks. Apparently what I should have been doing is going down to the Commerzbank and checking whether I had actually managed to cancel my card. But I didn't. I reasoned that I either had done it, or I hadn't. If I hadn't then, great, next time I used my card all would be fine. If I had cancelleed it then my card wouldn't work and no doubt a new one and a new PIN would be making their way to me some time around Christmas. Or New Year, knowing the Commerzbank.

Am I too casual about things like this? We had cash and I wasn't in any immediate need to take money out. I didn't really give it much thought, and to be honest by Friday I'd forgotten about it. So by today, it was a near distant memory.

Until we went to IKEA. (Why is it that when you combine IKEA, me, and the Commerzbank things go hideously wrong?? Should I change my bank to get out of this horrid cycle?) We had gone sledging nearby and the kids were starving afterwards so as IKEA was handy we stopped off there for some meatballs and I managed to pick up a few storage boxes for the growing Playmobil collection which (note: I handily stacked so they were easier to carry). Oh and they had the kids basket of fabric vegetables back in so I got one of those, and then as we were passing I also thought I should get a new storage jar for my risotto rice. And then because Stevie was getting impatient to the point of not coping with IKEA on a Saturday and because the vegetables were for Orla, he went to the express checkout to pay with his card and I wandered over to the meatball freezer with the kids.

The first thing that really pissed off Stevie was getting accused of shoplifting. It's easy done when you only listen to the first half of your dear girlfriend's conversation regarding toy storage. "Should I get 2 of these? Would you be opposed to me buying another of these storage units in the New Year? Do you even care? Ok, I'm getting 3! Because I am definetly buying that when the car isn't full of sledges and crates of empty bottles.". So he scanned 1 crate twice, and then he got collared and the first I knew about it was him screaming across at me "What? 3??? You never told me you were getting 3? Moan, moan, moan". At this point I could tell that Stevie was getting to the point where he can easily be tipped over the edge of reasonableness into a foul mood not because he was now being classed as a shoplifter, but because the transaction was taking too long.

So I shouted back, "Just forget it then, just get 2. It really doesn't matter", you know as you do, because even though you really want something you'd rather just have an easy life. And then we got to payment. If I had known better I would have walked out of the shop with my children and run for the hills and never returned. But you see, I'd forgotten all about Wednesday night. But I remembered as quick as a flash when his card got rejected and he got directed over to a 'colleague'. Shoplifter and card stealer!

Well, what can I say? I forgot it was a joint account and that he might be affected. Curse the Commerzbank! Curse my successful telephone cancelling!

I am going to end up with a terrible guilt complex. Not only do I feel bad about cancelling Stevie's card, but when we got home I put on the washing machine (with a final big bag of Playmobil in it) and now the washing machine is broken. It isn't able to drain, and we can't find the blockage, and even though there is no substantiating evidence, I think we all know that there is a high probability that a pride of lions are more than likely the cause of our soaking wet floor. Has anyone got a dark hole I can crawl into before the downstairs neighbours come round to complain about the massive costly damp patch on their ceiling?

25% - part one

From here...

...to here.

ONE WHOLE Q U A R T E R OF THE WAY...

We have completed our first 6 months in Berlin. In some ways it seems to have flown by, where did the good weather suddenly go? Yet, in other ways, it seems so long ago that we lived in Derby. Looking back on the past 6 months, I think I would sum it up by saying that I really like it here, but I'm not exactly sure why. As my life is so much harder here.

Getting the negative out of the way: I HATE THE MEDICAL SYSTEM HERE!

I am 100% sure that they have great doctors here (and also 100% sure that they have some lousy ones too, like that weird clown-loving GP that I saw first), but I really would like to just see one GP, and not have to find my own specialists, and it is probably much better to have a paediatrician, but to be honest, I find it easier to just drag us all to the doctor together and get us all over-innoculated at once.

Oh that's right. Should you decide to move abroad with your children, I'd advise you to make sure that their red books are completely up to date with all their information and innoculations. I had just assumed they were, and even if they weren't I never really realised that it would really matter. Not that it does. Just that Orla has now just had an extra polio injection than the rest of the European population.

We've only just got a letter from Price Waterhouse advising us about forms we need to fill out that will make the whole health insurance annoyance easier. Instead of me having to take my passport, and nearly every other item of ID with me along with my private insurance card and my European Health Insurance Card every time I either need a repeat prescription or need to see a doctor; get them all photocopied (every single time!); see the doctor; get billed; go to the bank to pay the bill; give the bill to Stevie to claim back through the insurance company; then wrangle with the insurance company that it is something that is covered. This will all change (supposedly). We will be issued with new cards which the receptionist will swipe and hopefully that will be that. We'll wait and see. Call me cynical, but I can't quite believe I won't be showing them 3 cards, my passport, and all my ID, etc etc.

What do I like about being here? APART FROM THE CHOCOLATE...

Well, the chocolate is good, and I never knew how much love I could feel for Choko Liebniz. I know you can get them in the UK, but with so much (ahem..) choice in British supermarkets, I never gave them a second glance.

But what I really like about here is that there is so much to do. Hell, if I wasn't filling my days dropping off kids, picking up kids, learning German, seeing doctors, and arguing with the Commerzbank, I think I'd be having a great time. We generally fill our weekends with something new and different to do. At home I think we just got into a routine and we did go places with the kids a lot but it's less enticing when you have an hours drive in front of you to get to a zoo, compared with a 10 minute walk, or the closest aquarium is in Birmingham, and the closest dinosaur is in London. Here, it feels like we have everything on our doorstep, and that is the best thing about living in a capital city. In the summer it was great because we went out every evening when Stevie got home from work and we went places and saw things and ate out and generally had fun in some really nice weather.

I feel like we packed in quite a lot of sightseeing and activities over the summer and I still have a big list of things that I HAVE to do next summer. Our plans over the winter are to see the museums and galleries, though I am sure there must be some ban in place for taking toddlers.

Old and new

Today I went and sorted out the payments to the nursery at the Commerzbank all easy enough - except that I handed the sheet with all the information (written in German) to the native German speaker behind the counter and twice had to point out easy to read and pertinent bits of information to her. If I didn't know better, I'd think my German was quite good.

Then I went over to the book shop and got a couple of books and a couple of other things. Up at the cash desk I handed over my card to pay and as soon as the cashier inserted it into the machine twice - I KNEW! He did it a third and fourth time, and then I asked him if it wasn't working. Well of course it wasn't working because it wouldn't be right of the Commerzbank to give me a card that lasted for more than a month and a half!

Raging, I went to the next closest Commerzbank and managed to get in just as they were locking the doors. I told the man behind the desk that my card wasn't working and that it was the second time that this had happened, and that I was bored of being embarressed by this. The response from the man working in the Commerzbank that looks exactly like 'the Commerzbank' that I'd been to along the road, was that he could give me money, but that they were the 'new' Commerzbank, whereas the other one I'd been to was the 'old' Commerzbank, and the soonest he could help me with my card problem would be in a years time. I said I didn't need any cash and I would wait a year and come back.

Grrr....

Commerzbank scuppers meatball purchase

I went to IKEA twice today. The first time I hauled the kids round the store in one of those wooden carts (have I just not seen those in the Nottingham branch before or are they unique to mainland Europe) and quickly regretted handing over my Berlin Zoo card for the pleasure of it. I thought I was going to strain my arms really badly. But really, can you strain an arm if you have to say to your partner, "Wait a minute until I find the muscle"?

So dragged the kids round, found dining room chairs and covers, swapped cart thing for flatbed trolley, stood in ginormous queue with it has to be said reasonably well behaved kids as I had promised them ice cream if they were good, and then get to the point where I need to pay and am told that my card isn't recognised. Isn't that odd? Isn't that especially odd when I had used the very same card in IKEA the night before buying the table?

I raged all the way home, then raged all the way to Commerzbank to have words. According to them the strip on my card must have been close to a magnet. I think that is rubbish. The woman told me to go and take cash out with it and then bring the card back to her. I did, and she then cut it up. But if the strip doesn't work, then how does it work in the machine? No answer to that question, just mumbling in German. And also, if it's just the strip not working and the chip is ok, then why wouldn't it work in IKEA where they use Chip & Pin??? I asked again. This time round she acted like she no longer knew what I meant by 'Chip & Pin' even though she had the first time I explained what had happened to me. Mind you, it could have been Orla chanting "Are you shouting at the lady yet?" that was putting her off.

I've had it with Commerzbank. This is the third crap event I've had with them in about the 6 weeks I've been a customer. So, I was back at IKEA tonight to re-buy my chairs. This time, I got there and they only had 3 left. So guess what, I'm back again tomorrow. I figured I have been there too many times now when as I reached the checkout the cashier spoke to me in English before I even said anything.

Ugh! Meatball, anyone?