Stripped Of Value
It was my dad’s birthday. Our family has low-key birthdays; no restaurants, no big parties, no drinking. We buy presents and BBQ steaks on each birthday, plus a baked potato and salad. Restaurant-quality dinner, but easier and cheaper.
Dad comes in from the mailbox with the mailed birthday cards from family. After dinner, he opens them.
Inside one small box is a joke gift from my aunt: a fridge magnet of a can of beer that makes the sound of a can opening, someone drinking, and then saying “Ahh,” in satisfaction.
Dad sighs heavily and facepalms. Then he upends the box, and a few gift cards slide out.
Dad: “Only my sister would be goofy enough to put a fridge magnet in the same box as magnetic strip gift cards.”
To the surprise of no one, yes, the fridge magnet scrambled the data on the magnetic stripes.
On the plus side, Dad got some good mileage from sharing the story with every cashier who had to put the ID number in manually. My aunt never lived it down.
