Master The Impossibilities
ìMembership has its privileges,î American Express says. Yeah, like that the people who work for them arenít borderline retarded. But, more on that in a moment.

Iím in Paris, a place I go every three or four months. I was last here at the end of March. At that time, I bought two pair of pants, not cheap, but well worth it, at my favorite young Paris designer, Ralph Kemp (scroll down for a few tiny photos of designs, some quotes within the article).

Yesterday, after slaving over a hot computer much of the day, I dropped in at Kemp-ville, 81 rue de Seine, in the 6th arrondisement, where his lovely sister Yael helped me into some outrageously gorgeous clothes, and helped my bank account (via my MasterCard that I used at their store twice before) out of a sum that looks a little more like rent than wardrobe money.

Still, I would have been sorry later if I'd left any of it behind...a black sparkly jacket...very rock-star, a white sculptural jacket -- brilliant design, sexy fit...wild, amazing black and white wide pants with patches of black beading sewn in, and two sexy, sexy little sleeveless summer blouses...all of it machine-washable, believe it or not!...like all of Ralph's clothes.

It was all on sale, plus I get the "detaxe" ($85 euros back at the border), but thanks to the mere fumes of value left in the dollar...well, let's just say I won't be shopping for clothes in the United States anytime soon.

Iím back at the apartment now, and I just finished interviewing my brilliant friend Gary Taubes for my column. Iíve linked to his work here before. Heís the award-winning investigative science journalist who wrote the piece, ìWhat If Itís All Been A Big Fat Lie?î, the New York Times article that launched the low-carb craze.

As long as I still had my cheapo-international call France Telecom calling card in hand, I phoned my machine in Los Angeles. What I heard made me boil. It was Direct Merchantís Bank, calling about my MasterCard, expressing ìconcernî that my card was lost or stolen due to the usage theyíd seen of it (and despite my ravings above, the sum was not exactly princessly ñ 660 eu). Then they added that ìthere may be a block on your card,î and suggested I call them ìon Mondayî to clear things up. Finally, they most helpfully left me a 1-800 number IN THE STATES! to call to do just that.

Well, guess what? Maybe if the card is being used in ParisÖmaybe, just maybeÖIím IN Paris, where you canít get through to 1-800 numbers in the USA! Leaping losers! Instead of going through Garyís quotes for my column, I spent far too much time tracking down the ìfreeî number that actually costs you .15 a minute to call, got put through to MasterCard in Europe, who put me through to my bank, where I had a five minute waitÖstill at .15 a minute, plus complimentary high blood pressure.

I told the woman at my MasterCard company I was in Paris, Iím always in Paris, take the damn block off. Moreover, Iíd be in Berlin on Wednesday (for the Human Behavior & Evolution Society Conference), and Zurich on the way home, and did I really have to call my damn credit card company to chat with them about my whereabouts every time I ventured out of Santa Monica? ìI always do when I travel, otherwise they block your cardî said the woman. ìYou probably should, too.î

Silly me, I thought I could just pay my bill and expect reasonably intelligent service. As they say in the old American Express commercials: ìDonít leave home without it.î (They mean, without leaving your Direct Merchantís MasterCard on your bureau.)