My poor debit card has seen better days. The strip on the back looks like the bottom of my high-heels, which are so worn down the metal clanks when I walk, the numbers that should be raised like brail on the front are flattened and there is a shadow of black where my signature should be imprinted. Nonetheless, it works.
When I put my debit card into the “cajero,” or ATM, I am prompted to select a language. Because I am dealing with money and cannot afford – literally - to make any mistakes, I select English. And though the English is clearly a poor translation of either the Catalan or Spanish directions, I am able to follow them.
I enter my pin. I select my account. And then, como siempre (“as always”), it flashes me a message.
“How much money do you require?”
[Aside] How much money do I require? Well, geeze, that’s a deep question, Mr. Cajero. All I wanted to do was take out some money and now the quiet inside my mind has been rippled. An entire string of other questions that I always try to avoid becomes inevitable.
How much money do I require? I mean, I know how much money I want, but require? Heck, how much money do I require for what? For today? For tonight? For dinner? For a shopping spree? Or, heaven forbid, for my life? I am still enjoying my early-20s. How can I even begin to answer this? Today I may require 100 Euros, tomorrow I might need 5, and the next I might need 1,000. But needing and wanting are so different from “requiring.” Requiring sounds regal and proper and official. Worse, requiring sounds so grown-up.
Am I just a silly girl parading around Barcelona, spending frivolously on “discotecas” and “vino” and “cervesa”? Am I requiring it or childishly wanting it? Am I spending too much or too little? Will I be broke by the time I go home? Why haven’t I been saving up for years?
My internal monologue then tries to make a deal with me. It begs me to put aside a dollar a day so that some day, any day, in the future I’ll have a few extra pennies. But then again, when’s the “future”? When will I know to use my savings? And in that case, if I don’t spend it, why am I saving it?
Snap out of it. Get a grip. You’re at an ATM; just take out some money so you don’t hold up your friends.
So how much money do I require? Well, when I look at it like that, I guess I can’t feel bad about taking out a lot. I mean, I need it right. I want to have a fun night. In order to do that, I require my glass of Sangria and I require a wristband to get into the club. Easy enough. Thank you very much, Mr. Cajero, you are absolutely right: I require 100 Euros tonight….just don’t tell my mom.
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