Airport

Before I even reached Christchurch an adventure occurred. It is a bit complicated so I will start at the beginning.

Last Sunday, the eighth of November, strapped for cash, I bicycled to the local shopping center approximately ten to eleven kilometers away from Gordonton. I found the ATM machine however, my card did not work instead, it stated that I had insufficient funds even though I had over 2,000 American dollars in my checking account. Not worrying I assumed that it was the ATM machine. “I will just get the money when I am at the airport”, I thought.

Once at the airport six days later I became a nervous mess. None of the ATMs were working. They all said I had insufficient funds. My mind raced. The bank had called my parents because some of my payments were out of the norm. But, I had fixed it right.

To calm my nerves I paced the airport shops’, a toyshop selling inflatable sheep, and a bookstore, until I walked into a clothing store called beach _________. Sorry I forgot the full name. Where while wondering around one of the clerks/ employees asked, “Are you all right”

Being Natalie, instead of giving the normal reply, “I’m fine thank you” I told the truth. “I am about to go to Christchurch and I can’t get any cash, none of the ATM’s seems to work, and I can’t draw money out of my credit card because it doesn’t have a pin.”

I was surprised when she listened and gave me some not so useful advice. She sent me to a possible bank in the international terminal. That possible bank turned out to be a currency exchange run by a bank but the teller told me “We are not a bank.” So, back I went.

Once again back at the Beach __________ another clerk/ assistance approached me with the same  question as the previous. My reply “I’m fine thank you” surprised the previous clerk. Who looked up surprised and said “She’s the girl who”. She stopped looked at me.

I sighed, “I can’t access my money with my debit or credit card” "Oh," he replied. There is a bank down the street just around the corner past the traffic lights.”

I looked at him blankly. I’ve never been good with long verbal directions. “Can you draw it for me,” I asked

“Sure,” he replied.

My flight by then was leaving in an hour as I hurried once again across the busy drop off area of the regional terminal towards the row of car rental shops, turned right at the sidewalk and then turned the corner left and stared a brisk walk up the road. The map the clerk drew was a bit confusing. What looked like a round a bout was really traffic lights but I made it to the TNZ bank and ran inside.

My hopes fell when I walked inside there were no bankers just one teller and a customer in line. Waiting my turn I approached the teller, gave my story for the fifth time.

The teller interjected with “did you try our ATM machine,” “No” I replied, frustrated but restraining my temper. I thought the teller was an idiot, but at her recommendation I went out back, inserted my debit card punched in my pin asked for 400, watched a circle of dots rotate and finally my card was ejected an I had cash.

Overjoyed, I ran back to the departures terminal Kicking my heals literally. Once back, I ran to the Beach __________ and thanked the store clerks. I also asked for their picture. Here it is, Samuel Pham on the left and Kumal Prasad on the right.

Even though some of their advice lead me in circles. They cared enough to help. And Guys if you find this blog thank you.