When I got back from New Orleans, I saw that Kris had laid out a new credit card for me to use. On our walk Friday morning, I asked if that card was a new credit card — to which she said, “No, Scot, that is a new debit card.” Well, I asked, “What is a debit card?” Kris said…
To make a long story short, it got way too involved. I said, “You don’t need to go on; I’ll not use it anyway.”
I’ve never in my life used a debit card and don’t know the difference between a credit and debit card. I’ve gotten along quite well — thank you — for 53 good years without a debit card and I’m thinking I’ll be fine without one. Kris explained how she gets cash (which is as good as money, to quote Yogi) at the grocery store by using debit card, and I explained how I get cash: I get it in the little pocket of money she makes available to me at home. So, I thought, I don’t need a debit card for cash — I’ve got access to cash. Who needs a debit card for cash when you’ve got that little pocket of cash in the drawer?
Then Kris got to thinking about giving me a debit card. She began to think that if I used a debit card for cash, I’d surely forget to inform her and then something bad would happen — maybe the bank would call about mischievous funds disappearing. By the time our walk was over, Kris had come to a firm conclusion: keep the debit card away from me and we’ll all be better off.
What do you think?