Deep down, I already knew my card would be declined as I approached the bloke at the till. He took one look at it, looked up at me, looked back at it, and muttered “Not a chance” under his breath.
Sure enough, the computer said no. But not for the usual reasons.
My bank card, a plant-based number rather than plastic, was disintegrating fast. I figured it was worth one last go, if only to satisfy my curiosity about which bit of the card – either present or by now missing in action – was the important bit. I’m still not sure.