A Good Place to be From
I am finally done with the Italian train system, here in a Swiss internet bar as I am. The train left on time and through we didn't switch trains, it seemed to run smoother after we crossed into Switzerland. Maybe they lay their tracks straighter too.
My first stop after getting off the train was the ATM. I've got a bunch of Euros, but I figured they wouldn't be good past the bar cart on the train. I chose English as my language, selected Withdrawal (assuming correctly it wasn't referring to alcohol withdrawal), then chose an amount in the middle of those offered—500 francs—not wanting to make the mistake I made in Copenhagen that sent me to the ATM four times in two days. The machine revealed five stunningl attractive 100 franc notes. I'll check the exchange rate when I get to the internet cafe, I told myself. I had assumed the exchange rate to be something like four or five francs to the dollar. On the way to the cafe, I saw a menu offering Tarte Lorraine for 25 francs, which seemed quite reasonable, maybe I'll check it out in a little while. Now I've just checked the actual exchange rate, thank you Google: 1.2 francs to the dollar. Meaning I've just put 8.3 dollars into this computer, that tarte cost 20.82, and I will probably not escape this country with the meager dignity afforded by having any money on you at all. I am now both anxious about carrying so much cash and in wealth withdrawal. Contradictory sensations.
In conclusion, don't get worried if I post less frequently in next few days. I still love you.
My first stop after getting off the train was the ATM. I've got a bunch of Euros, but I figured they wouldn't be good past the bar cart on the train. I chose English as my language, selected Withdrawal (assuming correctly it wasn't referring to alcohol withdrawal), then chose an amount in the middle of those offered—500 francs—not wanting to make the mistake I made in Copenhagen that sent me to the ATM four times in two days. The machine revealed five stunningl attractive 100 franc notes. I'll check the exchange rate when I get to the internet cafe, I told myself. I had assumed the exchange rate to be something like four or five francs to the dollar. On the way to the cafe, I saw a menu offering Tarte Lorraine for 25 francs, which seemed quite reasonable, maybe I'll check it out in a little while. Now I've just checked the actual exchange rate, thank you Google: 1.2 francs to the dollar. Meaning I've just put 8.3 dollars into this computer, that tarte cost 20.82, and I will probably not escape this country with the meager dignity afforded by having any money on you at all. I am now both anxious about carrying so much cash and in wealth withdrawal. Contradictory sensations.
In conclusion, don't get worried if I post less frequently in next few days. I still love you.
posted by duke at 15:46
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home