Dear Bank of America. I Hate You. And I Love You.

I am traveling to Prague today, and anyone who knows my history with traveling, knows that past adventures have at times followed Anna's Law - even if you don't think it can go wrong, it just might. And after spending an amount of money that makes you physically ill, all will be well.

I am very prepared for this trip. I packed everything from a European adaptor to a Tom-Tom, got my international driver's license, and packed for all types of weather. When I left today, I had to make one last stop - the ATM.

Although many places take credit cards, it is always wise to carry local currency. I entered my card, typed my pin, and requested fast cash. Rejected. Twice.

I haven't used my debit card in approximately two months, so I really had no idea why it was rejected, but since the bank had already closed, my only recourse was to call Bank of America.

I let it go for the first thirty minutes of my drive to Dulles airport because I dreaded the operating system. I always end up yelling at them and imagine someone on the recording gets a kick out of my unacknowledged fury.

Plus, chances were, I would not need cash in the 12 hours I was not with my brother. I was going to pay for the rental car with a credit card, and this is 2015, after all. But who knows what 2015 means in Prague. What if there are tolls? And I get a ticket because I do not pay? Then, when crossing the border to Hungary, the car gets flagged, and I get temporarily imprisoned. Or, the paid lot insists I pay cash up front, and makes me perform some form of weird entertainment in lieu of payment.

I had to call. After a lot of yelling at the operator to give me a human because the monotone voice could not answer my query and twenty minutes on hold, during which I heard the merits of applying for a loan, I reached a human. He could not tell me why my card had been cancelled - only that they had sent me a new card in the mail at some point. My current card expires in 2018, and it had never been flagged for fraud. Apparently, Bank of America also expects that I open every one of their precious mailings. I don't.

Not only that, they could not reinstate my current card, even though the only reason it was blocked was because they had sent me a superfluous card that I never activated. The associate was surprisingly unsympathetic. And unhelpful. Didn't he realize the sacrifices I was going to have to make just to park in Prague? I gave him a small piece of mind, hung up, and began crafting contingency plans.

I needed cash. But how to attain it with no debit card? I could plead with people at the airport to exchange cash for a check. I could offer to buy people's dinner with my credit card and take their cash. I could sell my sweater to the highest bidder. It's chic.

As I was considering my options, I saw a Bank of America building that was lit. Hallelujah!

I ran a red light to get there before the lights turned off. I had no idea why they were still open on a Friday night, but I had to take advantage. I rushed in, full of hope, and was crushed when all I saw was an ATM.

And then... I realized it was a live electronic teller ATM. I had no idea these existed! But I talked to her, told her my dilemma, showed her my ID, and indeed, I was able to acquire all the cash I needed.

I am now in Dulles airport, drinking a glass of wine, anticipating a good night's sleep on the upcoming flight. Euroadtrip, here I come! With cash.