Pictures of the border line by Kinsee Morlan
So, I withdrew $40 from an ATM in Tijuana yesterday and when I woke up this morning to check my account, I found that $200 had been withdrawn from my account from the same ATM minutes later. I walked away from that ATM with two twenties, not 12 twenties. In other words, I got jacked. Damn.
I’ve heard of this type of thing happening to people in foreign countries, but I’ve been going to this ATM consistently for the past year. I trusted it, it was my buddy — the only ATM in Tijuana that gave me American dollars rather than pesos. I loved that ATM, but it let me down. It more than let me down, it took my money, put me over my credit limit and made my bank charge me an extra $120 in overdraft fees. Damn, damn, damn.
It wouldn’t have been such a huge deal, but you see, not only do I live on the border line, I live on the financial crisis line. I’m sinking into the quicksand of debt so fast I can hardly breathe. My nostrils and eyeballs are still above ground, but it’s only a matter of time before I get pulled all the way under. What happens to people who can no longer pay their bills?