Most of us can likely still remember the days when missing the bank on a Friday meant no cash for the weekend.

No cash meant no date and no date meant hanging out at the donut shop parking lot with the boys. My how things have changed.

Almost every retailer on this planet accepts major credit cards, most welcome debit cards and if all else fails we can head to the closest bank machine, push a few buttons and presto – out pop our funds.

I’ve been using bank machines almost exclusively for several years now. My pay is electronically transferred into my account and my creditors (of whom there are many) ‘beam’ their money right out again.

Last weekend I arranged to have my firewood guy deliver this season’s supply. His preferred method of payment is cash so early Saturday morning I hustled off to my local ATM.

I put my card in, punched in my secret, 007 security code, requested $160 and presto – after a few bumps, clicks and hiccups nothing emerged except a slip stating the amount I requested could ‘possibly’ be different then the amount I received.

No cash, just the slip.

Immediately, the machine spits back my card and goes offline.

The people in line shot me a look like I was responsible for breaking this mixture of modern technology and necessity.

To add further insult, I then discover my account balance was light by the $160 I didn’t receive. Frustrated, off I went to my other local ATM which, thankfully, managed to spit out eight $20 bills.

The bank informs me it will conduct an audit of the machine and transfer the money back into the account providing they can sort out what went wrong.

While this was bad, it wasn’t the only ATM gunning for me last month.

I had a call from an old friend wanting to watch Sunday Night Football at our local pub. Not wanting to disappoint him, I jumped in my truck, hit the bank machine and settled back to watch the big screen. When the bill came I paid the young lady with cash. After a few minutes, she returned to inform me that there was a problem … one of the bills was counterfeit.

Thank God I was in a place where they knew me, otherwise I would have been spending time explaining to Metro’s finest why they shouldn’t be putting me in jail.

Honest officer, the machine gave it to me …

If I’ve learned anything from last month’s events it’s that my friends will soon be calling me ‘Debit Man.’

I certainly won’t be carrying cash for a while.

– Rob Wilkins is the publisher of Truck News and he can be reached at 416-442-2097.