Bills, bills, bills

I paid my very first hungarian bill! Hurray! It was for electricity, wasn't in my name, had a huge balance that didn't concern me, and even so was way too expensive.

I was preparing for the worst. It was due today, it was now or never. I had to go to the post office to pay it, since I don't have a hungarian bank account and checkbook. I was deathly afraid of the mind-shatteringly long queues at the post office. And yet, somehow, there was no one! Until I went to one of the counters. Then about a dozen people came in to line up. Lucky! And then I turned to the lady behind the counter. She seemed in a good mood, chatting with her co-workers. I politely said good morning, and asked whether I could pay my bill here, in cash. I apologized for being a rank beginner (a noob, as the kiddies say - properly spelled n00b). I held my breath. Here it comes, I thought. Something along the lines of, no sir, this is the wrong window. Or, sorry sir, we don't accept cash at this location. Or, sir, this can only be paid by the person who's name is on the bill, unless you have a letter and photocopies proving you're her legal agent. Something like that.

And then she smiled, passed the bill through a machine, took the money, gave me change and politely said goodbye. And I sailed right out the door. The whole thing took 5 minutes. Where am I and what have you done with my administration?

Let's call it a fluke.

Oh, and lest I forget, my bank card didn't work at the first bank I tried, and told me I needed to talk to my agency. In France. Urgently. All because I forgot my money at home. Good thing I don't listen to what bank machines tell me. The next ATM was much more accomodating.