I'm on the phone with Bank of America right now to find out why I'm not being allowed to spend any of my own money on goods and services. It's cool. I'm going to fracking scream.

That stupid electronic voice keeps coming back to let me know that the current estimated wait time is "Two minutes." At first I was happy to learn that my wait would only be two minutes, but with each consecutive notification that my wait time was currently estimated to be "Two minutes," a little novelty was chipped off the experience.

I should feel lucky. I wouldn't even have had the privilege of waiting fifteen minutes for another "Two minutes" if I hadn't already been put on hold three times prior.

I should also feel fortunate. My bank cares about my account security. So much so that I've been prompted four times by mechanical voices and human beings to verify my account information along with what seemed like a small IQ test or something. Still, I think they could do more. Like, why don't they just BUILD A FRACKING MOAT THAT LEADS TO ANOTHER FRACKING MOAT THAT LEADS TO A FINAL MOAT FILLED WITH AQUATIC-AUSTRALIAN-ELECTRIC-RAZOR-WALLABIES THAT'S PROTECTED BY A BROKEN BURNING DRAWBRIDGE THAT LEADS TO A HOLE IN THE GROUND THAT PASSES THROUGH HELL THAT LEADS TO A PRISON CELL THAT LEADS TO A SAFE THAT LEADS TO A SAFETY DEPOSIT BOX THAT LEADS TO A PAPER SACK INSIDE OF WHICH YOU'LL FIND A SPECIAL CUSTOMER SERVICE PHONE THAT ACTUALLY REACHES CUSTOMER SERVICE, AND WHICH HAS BEEN FLUNG ACROSS SPACE AND TIME TO THE ANDROMEDA GALAXY WHERE IT'S CURRENTLY RETIRED AND NOT INTERESTED IN COMING BACK.

When I finally got through to someone, I explained that I had been attempting to make a purchase all week and that it had been failing due to an authorization error. After another ten minutes of chit-chat, the phone person came back with a simple message:

"You can't."

Is that all? Have I really been on hold since 1983 to be told that, quite simply, I can't spend my money? Are you sure there isn't something you can do so I can buy something?

"You can't."

May I speak to your supervisor?

"You can't."

Um... which do you prefer - Coke or Pepsi?

"You can't."

I'm urinating where I sit and as we speak. I love it.

"You can't."

I'd like to kiss you full on the mouth, slap you on the ass, and ride you like a donkey into the sunset.

"OK!"

...

Eventually all the customer service reps and their kind got together and formed a plan of action that would propel me at high velocity into the world of commerce.

If you ever find yourself in the same situation as me, then just remember this keen advice:

"Try to buy it with something else, sir."

Brilliant! That's PERFECT! Here I was, thinking that my bank would be the institution that could help me get this problem resolved, when in fact I should be attempting to barter with the people at Costco and Walmart and a bunch of other places I'd never shop in a million billion years.

I'm game. I can adapt. I have an IQ of 87 - I'm a mental powerhouse.

Right now I'm getting all my Stargate SG-1 DVDs together in a pile. I've also thrown in Felix's old chocolate milk, a tray of ice, and a used "like new" cardboard box with a few flaps and walls and structural integrity missing. The thing I'm trying to buy is online, so I don't yet know completely how I'm going to do this. I have to first convince the web page that it should accept movies and garbage as payment, and then I have to get my movies and garbage out to the site.

However, given my bank's confidence that living like a bunch of Dark Ages English peasants covered in shit is the right thing to do, I expect everything will turn out all right in the end. I love it. I love the barter system.

Also, it's smart because why, when I could pay for something with Stargate SG-1 and a bunch of other knick-knacks, would I ever try to pay with my FREAKING FRACKING DEBIT CARD?! NEXT I MIGHT EVEN TRY TO USE MONEY!!!

OMG!! HA AHA AH AHAHAHA HA HA HA HA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

I'd like to close by saying that I'm going to go shoot myself in the face with the highly pressurized bacterial gases that have built up in Felix's old and abandoned chocolate milk that he left in my fridge about eight months ago.

I'll be back in "Two minutes" to let you know how it went.

Don't wait up for me.