The automated system asked for my account number.

I typed it in on the keypad.

A recorded female voice told me my available balance was zero dollars and zero cents.

I grabbed my coat and drove straight to the bank branch on Grand Avenue.

The morning air was freezing as I parked the 1998 Buick Century and walked up to the drive-through ATM in the outer lane.

I pushed my debit card into the reader.

I typed my PIN and pressed the button for a printed mini statement.