My mistake. I took three children to Robina Town Centre, week two of the school holidays with no quality bribes. No lollipops, no jumpys, no matchbox cars, nothing that would scream: forward thinking.

But then again, I didn’t think I’d get stuck behind the worst ATM user ever. Ever. No, I don’t think you understand.

By my calculations you should need to press 8 buttons, 10 max to get some cashola from the Automatic Teller Machine.

It should consist of the following:

4 presses - Pin number. Pretty. Fucking. Simple. People. You got given a 4 digit number that needs to be memorised (if this is too hard, pick a number you remember, like the amount of times you forgot your allocated pin number in the first place).

1 press – What you are there for? Seriously, are you there to withdraw, check your balance or deposit. That’s it. Don’t use it as your own personal banker and start trading currency. People are waiting.

1 jab – Assuming this is a withdrawal, let’s say it is, press WITHDRAWAL. I assume 90% of the
time you are there for this and not to get a medicare refund or a cheeseburger, however the length of time it takes for some people to decide this, makes me believe otherwise. This button push is to select the amount. Just do it.

last hit – Do you want a receipt – yes or no. Yes or no. Get it on the screen if you don’t want the paper. I do.

Righteo, money comes out, you move the fuck away from the ATM and put said money in your wallet.

So why is it that I can stand behind someone, at first very patiently, that seems to press no less than 36 buttons, all to walk away with nothing. No cash. Not even a stinking receipt.

What in the fuck, are they doing? Dialling China?

I understand some people are old and new to this technology. I give them a break.

The guy in the flannel today though, that nearly lost his card due to 2 incorrect pin entries, then checked his balance 3 times only to swear at the screen (which sadly stayed silent) and then took his card out only to RE-ENTER it so he could confirm his stupidity and repeat this again, I do not give you a break. All I can give you is my perfected “Hurry up or I will stab you” look.

This coupled with the 2 year old going batshit in the stroller ready to tip backwards with the ridiculously heavy, fuck knows what’s in it handbag strapped to the back, and the other two older children moonwalking in front of the masses, I thought my head would spontaneously combust. But then he magically whisked out his 20 dollar note , studied the receipt in FRONT OF THE MACHINE and then wandered off oblivious to the danger that was behind him.

ATM Rage is alive and well. Don’t underestimate it.