So last night Rob picks me up from work, and tells me that we have to take a detour. He can't find his ATM debit card, and the last place he used it was to get gas earlier in the day. So off we go to the Hess station, where they give him the lost card- saying they saw it and put it under the counter. Now my beloved may be many things, but trusting is not one of his top ten (with folks he doesn't know, that is.) So he calls B of A to check balance and transactions. His end of the conversation I hear: "Yep, gas purchase....that was me this morning.... and what else? A $39 charge? For WHERE? I never heard of that. I didn't authorize that. OK How do I dispute this? Uh huh, uh huh... The name is what? Do you have a phone number? (frantic scribbling) OK, sure thanks. " He gets off the phone and says he has to go into the gas station and get a list of employees because someone made a $39 purchase to a place called Jessica's Biscuits. "Sounds like porn to me" he says. "Hold on." I say. "You drive let's go get dinner and I will call them and see what I can do to find out details." So I call, playing the good fiance. The man I speak to is very nice, but says that customer service for dispute situations is now closed, They are only open until 5, etc... so I ask what sort of company Jessica's biscuits is. Sounds vaguely like gourmet foods, I say to him. He says "We do catalog sales for lots of things, like cookbooks." Rob hears the word "cookbook" and grabs the phone off my ear and yells "WAIT! WAIT! That was me! I'm the one who placed an order! Don't cancel it!" (Mind you we've given no credit card information, name, or any details - this man had no idea to whom he was speaking) I am, at this point, hysterically laughing... knowing full well what this is.....and Rob has this miserable woebegone expression. You see, I had given Rob a list of what I wanted for Christmas, and had a couple of cookbook ideas on there, among other things. So off we go to dinner, and various other family dramas that are playing out with his sister unfold, but that's another story altogether. The best part of this story other than how funny it was that Rob went into ABORT ABORT status and nearly ripped my ear off trying to get the phone is that I am telling this story to Mom this morning and she says "What cookbook was it? You mean you told both Rob and I you wanted cookbooks?" Then she makes the patentended "Harrumph" noise of frustration all mothers have a genetic predisposition towards and says "I have to go call Rob now." Too funny. I love Christmas.