Opening a Bank Account, a.k.a, "You're gonna freeze!" redux

Tuesday morning came, and with it, the departure of my mother for parts south.  I had a bank appointment to open a new account with Royal Bank of Canada in the afternoon, an appointment that I went to all by myself (oh hush, growing up scares some of us).  My appointment was with Eddy (short for Edmonton, no joke) an accounts manager.  If Eddy ever decides to give up banking, he can become a model.  Not kidding.  He was gorgeous.  Eddy, like many others, is concerned about my well being in winter, as evidenced by this conversation:

[After I pull out my driver's license and passport card]

"California, eh?  What part?"

"Southern.  About 70 miles from the Mexico border."

"Oh my gosh!  And you came here?  What made you decide to pick Edmonton?"

"Well, I was a teacher, got RIF'd, decided to get my master's, and my auntie said I could come and live with her, so I applied to U of A.  And got in."

"But you're going to die during the winter!  Did anyone try to talk you out of it?"

"No, but I've had plenty of warnings about the weather, I'm just trying not to think about it too much."

"Well, come and see me when it gets cold, and tell me what you think."

"Um, okay."

So I got my bank account sorted out, then went across the street to get gas, as my car was running on fumes.  I hadn't put any money in my RBC account yet (a check would take 15 days to process, and I needed to call Wells Fargo before pulling out a bunch of money).  So I went inside to prepay for gas, and my card got declined.  Three times.  Red-faced, I left the gas station, rolled home (praying that the car could make it), then stormed upstairs to make a call to Wells Fargo asking them why they'd locked my account. 

Luckily, Aunt Cathie intercepted me before I placed the call and pointed out that they'd probably seen my charge from Indigo earlier in the day, gone "Canada, WTF?" and locked the account just in case some nefarious person had gotten ahold of my card and gone on a book buying binge (if one book can be considered a binge).  After a brief hold, I got on line with a pleasant sounding young gentleman, and explained to him that yes, it really was me in Canada, and that I needed to be able to access my money, and also, I'm pulling out a couple hundred dollars to put in my RBC account.  After unlocking my account, I got to have another round of The Conversation:

"So, Canada, huh?  Isn't Edmonton, like, really far up there?"

"Yeah, it's on the same latitude as the northern Aleutian islands, so it's pretty far up."

"And you're from California, you say?  Where abouts?"

"Moreno Valley.  Its-"

"Oh, I know Moreno Valley, I'm from L.A.!  Wait, you left there to go to school in Canada?"

"Yeah.  My aunt lives here, and they have a program I want-"

"But it snows, like, A LOT up there.  And it gets REALLY cold.  You're probably gonna freeze."

"Yup, that's what everyone keeps telling me..."

"Well, good luck, and try not to die when it gets cold."

Aww, even the random bank dudes are worried about me freezing to death.

I think I'm gonna start telling people I'm from Nome, Alaska.