So I saw an ad several weeks ago: “Are you getting the credit you deserve? Call now!”
So I thought about it. “I deserve the best credit there is, and I don’t have it,” I thought. “Oh, sure, my credit’s ‘OK’, but I deserve better.”
“I deserve a credit card that makes me money when I turn payments in late! I deserve a credit card that lets me buy elephants without a down payment! I deserve a credit card that let’s me decide who lives and who dies! That’s the credit card I deserve!”
“So why don’t I have the credit card I deserve?”
So I called the credit card company to find out that very thing.
The operator asked, “Now, Mr. Mason. I’m looking over your credit history, and I just wanna ask you a few additional questions. First, do you ever ‘borrow’ money from friends and not pay them back unless they bug you?”
“That has occurred on occasion, yes.”
“Do you eat your friends’ food and never reimburse them?”
“I trend toward that, yes.”
“Do you regularly contribute to the good of society?”
“No, I mean, not really.”
“So, would you say you are part of the problem or part of the solution?”
“Well…I guess…problem. If I had to pick one.”
“Which you do.”
“Yes, which I do.”
“Well, sir. We are going to give you a credit card. One with a terrible rate, incredibly high late fees, a low limit, and pointy spikes that stick out the side making it very difficult to hold in your hand, much less fit in a wallet. We’re going to give you a credit card that can only be used at three stores, and all three of these stores are located in Bangladesh. We’re going to give you a credit card so terrible, so unusable, so hideous (not to mention foul-smelling) that using it will cause you to wretch for four hours straight. That’s the credit card we’re going to give you, Mr. Mason, because from what I can deduce of your credit history, personality, and moral fortitude, that’s exactly what you deserve.”
I got my crappy credit card in the mail four weeks later; I sat around in my apartment and sulked for a long time.
And then I flew to Bangladesh and bought a big-screen TV on the new card, just to show ’em! Ha!
(sigh) I’ll never be able to pay that back.
The Truth hurts. But it sure is the Truth.
In addition to the Truth, the pointy spikes on my new card also hurt. My hands have become a bloody mess. If anyone knows a good doctor, please tell me.
But they better take credit.