This One Goes Under the "WTF?!?!" File

Before I get started with this story, I need to share Producer Matt's Life Lesson of the Day...because it was just so good.

Producer Matt's Life Lesson of the Day: Everyone is lying to you and trying to make you look like an idiot.

Well said, sir.

So, I was working at the Foxy when all of this started. I was at my desk working on some video requests when I feel the vibrations from my phone. Someone was calling me - and it was someone with a 425 area code (Western Washington). I answered the phone, and it was someone from Bank of America in Woodinville. She was calling because there were some issues with one of my bank accounts (that's right, I have multiple. I'm a baller.). I thought, oh great, someone stole money from me. Well, the lady from B of A told me that someone TRIED to steal money from me. Apparently they had gotten a hold of my rent check and washed it out, replacing what I had written with the person's name and an amount of $650, and then tried to cash the check at a Southern California B of A. Luckily, the teller at the bank noticed that the check was fraudulent and didn't cash it. However, since this chick stole my rent check, it meant that my June rent hadn't been paid yet. Greatttttttttt.

The woman from the Woodinville B of A suggested that I close my account (in case the beez that stole my check made copies) and open a new one in California. So, since I was driving through picturesque Malibu I stopped at the local B of A branch to open my new account. Long story short, this was a big pain in the ass. After I sat around while the personal banker clicked keys on the computer, I now had to drive back to my apartment complex so I could tell them that their rent box was severely compromised and that I had a check to pay my rent. Apparently, I was not the first person to tell them about the check bandit. Three other people had also their banks notify them about someone stealing their checks. Awesome!

From there, I had to go to the bank in Woodland Hills where the hapless check frauder tried to cash the check. I walked in and someone greeted me and asked what I needed help with. I told her that I got a call from my bank saying that someone tried to cash a check of mine at this branch. She asked me my name and I told her. That's when her face lit up and she was like, "Oh! YOU'RE Ally Barrera. Everyone...Ally Barrera is here!" I was like a fricking celebrity to these people. I got ushered to one of the bankers who apparently was in charge of my case and she told me what was up. Last night, the girl tried to cash my check two minutes before the bank closed, and the teller knew that something was off with her. I mean, the girl was wearing huge, black sunglasses...INDOORS. Duhhhhhhhh. The girl handed the teller the check and the teller immediately knew that it was laundered. She took the girl's ID and asked her to take her sunglasses off. The girl refused. The teller then said that they would cash the check once the girl took her glasses off (joke). So the girl (the dumb bitch that she is) took off her sunglasses so now she is captured on the security footage. That was when the teller said that they couldn't cash the check because it was a fake and that they would be handing her ID over to the authorities. The girl didn't care. Double duhhhhhhhhhh.

After this ridiculous story, the bank woman gave me a copy of the check and of the bandit's ID. I looked at the address...and butt-low and behold, she lives in the same apartment complex as me!!! WTF!?!?!?!?!?! I took this information and told my apartment complex that, oh by the way, the check bandit lives here. Just thought you'd like to know. I then had to go to the Lost Hills Sheriff's station so I could file a police report. And that took for-frickin-ever. I was there for over an hour. They kept checking back on me, saying that they were fielding 911 calls. I mean...come on! We live in Calabasas. What bad shit happens here, seriously? After waiting, they took down my story and asked me if I had seen this girl before. I said no but i assumed she lived in my apartment complex because of the address on her ID. That's when the deputy said this, "Yeah...I think she's the one with the parolee boyfriend. He has her doing his dirty work." Ummmmm...exqueeze me? You're telling me that an ex-con is living in my apartment complex? This is just too unbelievable now. I can't even handle it. The deputies then said that they should pay this chick a visit and maybe book her Dan-O. I emphatically agreed. After the past few shocking revelations, I went back to the apartment to drop off the copies of the check for their records.

And then my day was done...finally. I went home and had to decompress from this trying experience. I'm surprised that I didn't open my bottle of gin and drink myself silly. Well, I just need to look on the bright side. My money didn't get stolen and I have now washed my hands of the situation. Now I'm watching the UW softball team in the World Series pulling a defeat from the jaws of victory. Just great...not. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. I don't see how it couldn't.