Banned at minute 90
Mid-credit-burn, the shared Claude account dies with a terms-of-service notice nobody read, Carlos panics about the repos, and then the bank texts: full refund on its way. Half a million lines of code, one hundred dollars returned, and the replacement model shipped the same morning.
// trace: where this idea came from
- ↳ video diary @ 8:00 (tu cuenta ha sido desactivada)
- ↳ video diary @ 10:43 (el reembolso llega por SMS)
- ↳ video diary @ 13:30 (expulsados en el minuto 90)
The day starts with the replacement and ends with the eviction. Morning: Gemini 3 finally ships, benchmarks blazing, its own IDE called Antigravity, free ▸ 0:38, prompting his David-and-Goliath sympathy for the labs polishing their one little horse while Google arrives like a finished city next to their huts ▸ 4:26. Afternoon: back from lunch during the credit sprint’s final hours, Carlos writes asking why he’s lost repo access, and the screenshot explains it: the shared account, three people on one login, has been deactivated for violating terms of service nobody read ▸ 7:42, “¿quién lee los términos de uso? nadie” ▸ 8:10.
The panic is briefly real: Carlos fears days of work are gone, they aren’t, the repos live on JP’s GitHub ▸ 8:44, and his own fear is the subscription billing forever with no way to cancel ▸ 9:55. Then, mid emergency call, Bancolombia texts: a refund of roughly 310,000 pesos arriving within ten days ▸ 10:43, the full $100, presumably to preempt any dispute ▸ 12:11.
expulsados en el minuto 90, con el marcador definido y la boleta reembolsada →
The accounting turns the incident into comedy: nearly all 1,000 credits spent, somewhere between 200,000 and 500,000 lines of code across a dozen-plus projects ▸ 12:29, and the money back, his analogy being ejected from a World Cup match for excessive noise at minute 90, score already decided, ticket refunded at the gate ▸ 13:30, with the disclaimer attached: “aprovechamos un bug… no hagan eso” ▸ 13:04. The postmortem is honest about causes: group members share accounts without bans, so his best guesses are the sheer concurrent volume from different machines ▸ 15:41, or the mysterious GitHub test loops, a theory he investigates live and kills when the answer comes back that those CI runners bill GitHub, not Claude ▸ 22:12. The arc that began with the hundred-dollar bet closes with symmetry too clean to invent: the subscription was only ever meant to last a week, and the day it died, its successor launched, “gracias, gracias” ▸ 14:42…
// continued in
no entry has continued this idea yet: the arc is still open