Lesson of the day

Living in Prague has tipped me off to quite a few things- the city's layout will never make sense no matter how long I think about it, Czech will never get easier, and God help you if you come with all your money locked up in traveler's checks.

This point leads me to the lesson of the day: DO NOT TAKE TRAVELER'S CHECKS WITH YOU. ANYWHERE. NO MATTER HOW OBSESSED YOUR MOTHER IS WITH THEM, IT IS NOT 1974 AND NO ONE IS BACKPACKING AND GETTING PACKAGES AT THE AMEX OFFICE, SO DO NOT TAKE TRAVELER'S CHECKS.

I wrote before about how I got painfully assaulted by the exchange rate because I used traveler's checks when I had to get cash before, and since money doesn't grow on trees, I had to exchange two or three more. So I go to KB Bank, no big deal, and sign a check.

Oh wait, the teller doesn't think my signatures are identical (THEY ARE) and won't let me cash them, rendering them void because you need to sign the checks in front of a teller so they can approve them. So, you know, I start crying and protesting and the English-speaking asshole they drag over to talk to me is no help. So, crying, I yell at my mother and generally panic because it is gross outside and I'm broke and oh hey, $100 is essentially void. So after an hour of walking around Wenceslas Square on the advice of the friendly guy at AmEx (oh, by the way, the Prague branch doesn't allow you to change money there. This is what months of my mother's obsessive research got me), I have a breakdown in the trashy New Yorker store and am forced to traverse Prague and find the one lone Citibank branch. The employees there are super nice and sympathetic but after a two-hour ordeal that included calling my mother crying and being given nonsensical directions to a magical mystery bank branch assuming that Prague's layout makes sense and that of course I know where a random street is, I freak out, go shopping, and go to dinner and a movie. Because on day five, I should be considered an expert on all things Prague. Obviously. And just because I'm in freaking Central Europe doesn't mean I can't recreate my moping rituals like at home.

So, in conclusion: THANKS MOM.