THE CHEQUE

I was going to write about the cheque as promised yesterday on Amie’s Facebook page, [have you had a peep at that and liked it yet?] –  but I thought it would go better in a blog.

Quite some time ago Amazon asked me if I would like them to send me cheques for royalties, or how about electronic payments directly into my bank?

No contest, being paralytically lazy by nature I opted for the direct method and all was well, until earlier this week I received an email from the big A to tell me they were sending me a cheque. I hope they were not talking about a second cheque as this one dropped into my post box the very next day.

In the meantime A sent me another e.mail imploring me to do the direct transfer thing, which I thought I had done months ago, but this time they gave me a list of all their countries and I was happy to tick all of them, tick, tick, tick I went. I was happy to accept Euros from any country in the world and would give it a warm welcome in my bank account any time.

Back to the cheque – and here it is.

cheque

I thought it was interesting to note that it is drawn on a German Bank, so maybe it was for a book sale in that country? I’m really not sure, but I don’t remember a German sale, France, Spain and Italy yes, but Germany? Oh well maybe it sneaked in under the radar. But then money is money right?

Next point, is the German Bank would appear to be situated in Paris, and it clearly states on the front that it is payable in Paris, at 3, avenue de Friedland. Shame that, I live in Spain.

Now to make this a truly multicultural cheque of many nations, it gives A’s address in Luxembourg and, wait for it, the envelope was posted in Slough, Buckingham England!!

By now the poor thing must be having an identity crisis. And did you notice the huge amount on the cheque, yes, zero Euros and fifty one cents. It must have been for one kindle sale and they have already withheld the thirty per cent tax.

Never mind I thought, I’ll pop it into my bank account myself. I felt just a tad embarrassed as I slid it across the counter, explaining in my appalling Spanish that I knew it was for very, very little, but … er…..

There followed much tapping on the computer, several frowns on the young cashier’s face, a quick shake of the head then she looked up.

“There is a small problem,” she said.

I agreed it was a small cheque.

“It will cost you money to put this cheque in your account.”

“Oh, really? How much?”.

I think she said in Spanish that she was trying to calculate that, but after a couple of minutes she looked up again and said “Nine Euros.”

“Nine Euros to pay in fifty one cents! No way.” I smiled brightly, thanked her and the cheque and I exited the bank together. It has now taken up permanent residence in my wallet, until maybe I’ll try a branch of the said German bank here, or I happen to be in Paris before it goes stale. I noticed they crossed it, so I can’t even use it at Mercadonna as part of my grocery bill.

Has anyone got an old picture frame they don’t want? It might spur me to greater literary work if I can gaze on that every time I sit down to write.

i

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