Seriously self-loathing. Right. Now.
So I have no money. I have money but I don’t *have* money. I have a bank account, I have a salary, hell… I got a bonus for Turkish Teachers’ Day. But I still don’t have a bankcard. I have no way of getting easy cash.
Tonight, someone was supposed to come and fix my washer. But at 7 pm I figured they weren’t coming and when Bulent left to meet friends it didn’t occur to me to hit him up for cash for the maintenance man. So when maintenance men did come at 8pm, I had no money. Not to mention I was in my pajamas. So he “fixes” the washer,** and then reasonably asked for 20 Lira. Well, I had 5 Lira, in coins. I frantically called my friend who lives in the building, to see if she would loan me money. She wasn’t home. Her husband said he would loan me the money and then asked me who I was. I was so flustered that when I called I forgot to identify myself. So in my PJs I took the elevator 8 flights and borrowed money from my friend’s son because his father only had 10 Lira. When I knocked, behind the door I heard the Velcro on his wallet rasp, and I died a little inside. I thanked he profusely and ripped the money out of his hand and took the elevator ride of shame down to my floor where the confused maintenance men were waiting outside my apartment. I gave them that, and a tip (in coin,) and stumbled into my apartment to wither in the agony of shame.
I did look for an ATM when I walked the dog later, but there were none. And so, back to the original plan, when Bulent gets home I will hit him up for 20 so I can give the teenager back his bus money.
**The washer was not broken. We had been putting soap in the wrong slot. In our defense there are three slots and no labels. So he explained what spaces to put the soap and the fabric softener, and I pretended I wasn’t an idiot.