Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I just checked my bank account and it's 800 bucks lighter than it should be...and at first I was freaking out. Wouldn't anyone? I mean seriously, eight hundred fucking dollars! So I check to see who the money went to, and it said Priceline...that bullshit website with william shatner as the spokesperson. So then I call my bank and ask them what the hell happened that they gave William Shatner all of my fucking money, and right in the middle of destroying the bank associate, I remember...and tell them I'll call back. I then spend about forty-five minutes trying to explain to the Indian sounding Priceline operator that I no longer want this trip and I need them to give me my EIGHT HUNDRED dollars back. Nope. I screamed, I threatened (though it didn't do much good, the mothafucker was in India) and finally asked to be put through to an American. Thankfully...they did it. Then I had to explain that I was no longer dating the person who I planned this stupid surprise trip for, and upon hearing that, they refunded two hundred bucks. Something that probably made this guy feel like a saint...so now my account is only short six hundred bucks. Great. Life is fucked up.