A behind-the-scenes moment you would never get on the TV show: Working with a realtor, we found a place we liked. (We’ll post about the decision-making process soon and provide additional details.) We met him last Saturday morning to sign the paperwork and pay the first month’s rent, a security deposit, and a pet deposit. The paperwork went quickly, so no problem there. It then started to fall apart.
We had planned on transferring the needed funds using a service called Xoom. It is owned by PayPal and is supposed to allow you to transfer money from your checking account to another bank account in 160 countries. A day in advance we downloaded the app, tied our PayPal account to Xoom, and did a dry run to make sure we had an idea of the steps involved. We repeated the process in front of the realtor and quickly received a failure message. Anxiety started to rise. I restarted the app and tried again. This time I could transfer money, but the maximum amount was less than a third of the amount we needed. Panic set in. I called Xoom technical support to see if I could get a resolution.
Chelsea began to look for other money transfer options. We have a Capital One bank account primarily because it was recommended to us for International travel. It turns out that Capital One won’t allow money transfers to Mexico. She called them to see what options they might have. The customer service representative said there weren’t any and politely ended the call.
Our realtor could tell our chance of finding a solution was slipping away, along with his commission. He mentioned going to an ATM. I was still stuck on the phone with Xoom’s technical support and only halfway considered his suggestion. After all, our daily withdrawal limit was nowhere near high enough for that to work. Chelsea immediately called Capital One back to see if they would temporarily increase our daily withdrawal limit. Shockingly, they did.
The next step was to find an ATM or series of ATMs since each machine usually has an amount per transaction restriction and a daily maximum. We sped to a large grocery store called Chedraui. It had one of those stand-alone ATMs near the checkout lines. I inserted my debit card, went through the various options, and reached the “withdraw cash from checking account” screen. Argggh! The maximum amount I could get per transaction was frustratingly small. Based on the numbers I was seeing, it would take twenty-three (23, XXIII, Michael Jordan’s basketball jersey number) transactions to get enough money out. The first fifteen or so withdrawals went fine. My pockets bulged, and I had started to think this might work. I imagined this ATM was a slot machine and I was winning (small amounts) over and over again.
It took a moment to register that the screen was now dark and me pressing buttons wasn’t actually doing anything. I stared in disbelief. My card was still inside the machine, with no way to get it out. I got the attention of a checkout person, but they were busy and indicated I would have to wait. My mind raced. What was I going to do? How could I get the rest of the money? What about my card? I thought about unplugging the machine and plugging it back in. I actively started looking for the cord and the outlet. I wondered if an employee would yell if they saw what I was doing when the ATM rebooted on its own. I took a deep breath for the first time since the machine crashed. It looked fine and my card was once again accessible.
I was at a crossroads. I could keep going and hope the machine didn’t crash again or I could try to find another ATM. The clock was ticking… I reinserted my card and continued the pattern I had memorized. Pesos flowed again and again. Three or four more transactions and I would be done. By now I knew the rhythms of the machine: Do you want to continue with this transaction? Press the “yes” button. Do you want a receipt? Press the “no” button. Pause. Click. Pause. Whirr. Money raining down for approximately 5 seconds. But not this time. The button presses and noises were correct, but money rained down for only half the normal amount of time. I had emptied the ATM.
I guess I could have been thankful that the ATM gave me all it could, and much more than I had originally expected. On the other hand, I could have cursed it for failing me when we were so close to the finish line. I did neither. There wasn’t time. My pockets were stuffed like a chipmunk’s cheeks and I no longer knew exactly how much more money was needed.
I dashed back to the car where Chelsea, Hobbes, and Roux had been waiting for at least thirty minutes. I started pulling out wad after wad of bills and jammed them into the console. I jumped into the driver’s seat and we drove to the next closest grocery store a couple of miles away. Other than having to guess how much money to withdraw, we were able to complete this leg of the task without incident.
A short while later, we sat down with the realtor again and handed him a ridiculously large stack of bills. He gave us a receipt and the ability to relax for the first time in a couple of hours.