Chapter 4 - The Declined Card at Costco
By 2:00 PM on Friday, the strain on the Whitaker household had graduated from inconvenient to humiliating.
Thomas and Diane decided to drive to the Costco Wholesale warehouse in Roseville to restock the empty pantry. Thomas had invited his old buddy, Greg, to join them, promising to help him buy a set of discount tires using his "Executive Member Perks."
At the front entrance, Thomas flashed the shiny black Executive membership card with his usual swagger.
The attendant scanned the barcode.
BEEP-BEEP.
A red screen flashed on the handheld scanner.
“Sir, this card was terminated yesterday evening by the primary account holder, Lauren Whitaker,” the attendant announced in a loud, professional voice heard by ten people in line.
Thomas’s face went scarlet. “What? That’s impossible! I’m the head of the household!”
“You are listed as an authorized household dependent on an account opened and paid by Lauren Whitaker,” the attendant explained, politely taking the plastic card. “The account was closed at the owner’s request. If you’d like to open your own membership, customer service is to the left.”
Greg looked at Thomas with an awkward, puzzled frown. “I thought you said you had the highest tier corporate account, Tom?”
“It’s a glitch! A clerical error!” Thomas stammered, sweating through his polo shirt.
Inside the store, after waiting forty minutes to purchase a basic $60 Gold Star membership using his own dwindling checking account, Thomas pushed a cart filled with standard meats, bread, and milk to the checkout counter.
The cashier scanned the groceries.
“Total is $384.50.”
Thomas slid his Visa debit card into the chip reader.
DECLINED.
“Try it again,” Thomas snapped, his hands beginning to tremble.
DECLINED — INSUFFICIENT FUNDS.
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Diane whispered in horror, clutching her purse. “Thomas… the pension deposit doesn't clear until next Tuesday! We don't have four hundred dollars in checking!”
Under the judgmental stares of sixty shoppers in line, Thomas was forced to abandon his cart and walk out of the store with nothing but a half-loaf of discount bread and a pack of bologna.
