Dodging Debt and My Bathroom Ceiling.
"I was just wondering if my interest rate had gone up recently."
"Let me see here, Mister Pierson. No, it says here you have had the same low rate you have had since you came aboard with us in 2002, and let me say you have been an excellent and preferred customer since then."
"I was only wondering because I haven't made any purchases in months, and my minimum payment is really depressingly high."
"Oh, I understand how it is in these times. I'm really sorry. Can I see if there's anything else I can do to help?"
"Um, I guess not. Thanks."
"Thanks for being such an excellent preferred customer, Mister Pierson."
I wondered how much he gets paid to be nice, if he's nicer now than he would've been last year, and if that corresponds to a pay raise or vice versa. I wondered how much his employer profits from my debt - and if by extension this guy gets a helping of my caboodle. I wondered if after I hung up he went back to hating everything he did and everyone he talked to. Damning his meager paychecks. Damning his dwindling insurance benefits. Maybe he was nice only out of spite at the chaos and personal agony he facilitated daily.
But I highly doubt it. This was verifiable, giddy joy. He doesn't even have debt. He can afford not to. He joined the credit industry, the one ship that floats high and dry when all others sink, and he held on for dear life with all the other rats. He's embarking on a luxury cruise that only gets more luxurious and more exclusive as it goes on. And with a voice like that, I'm sure he's talked his way into smooth sailing. I lamented his existence. I envied his gift.
In other news, the other half of my bathroom ceiling fell to the floor as I was recording acoustic guitar. I thought it was a person falling down, or a car accident. It was at least 60 pounds of drywall. If I had been taking a shit, I could well have been killed. As I finally stopped shaking twenty minutes later I began to get extremely angry. This is not acceptable. I can't afford a deposit somewhere else, and because I work all week it's going to be very difficult to find time to explore neighborhoods. Does anyone know of single places/studios opening in their buildings or nearby?
"Let me see here, Mister Pierson. No, it says here you have had the same low rate you have had since you came aboard with us in 2002, and let me say you have been an excellent and preferred customer since then."
"I was only wondering because I haven't made any purchases in months, and my minimum payment is really depressingly high."
"Oh, I understand how it is in these times. I'm really sorry. Can I see if there's anything else I can do to help?"
"Um, I guess not. Thanks."
"Thanks for being such an excellent preferred customer, Mister Pierson."
I wondered how much he gets paid to be nice, if he's nicer now than he would've been last year, and if that corresponds to a pay raise or vice versa. I wondered how much his employer profits from my debt - and if by extension this guy gets a helping of my caboodle. I wondered if after I hung up he went back to hating everything he did and everyone he talked to. Damning his meager paychecks. Damning his dwindling insurance benefits. Maybe he was nice only out of spite at the chaos and personal agony he facilitated daily.
But I highly doubt it. This was verifiable, giddy joy. He doesn't even have debt. He can afford not to. He joined the credit industry, the one ship that floats high and dry when all others sink, and he held on for dear life with all the other rats. He's embarking on a luxury cruise that only gets more luxurious and more exclusive as it goes on. And with a voice like that, I'm sure he's talked his way into smooth sailing. I lamented his existence. I envied his gift.
In other news, the other half of my bathroom ceiling fell to the floor as I was recording acoustic guitar. I thought it was a person falling down, or a car accident. It was at least 60 pounds of drywall. If I had been taking a shit, I could well have been killed. As I finally stopped shaking twenty minutes later I began to get extremely angry. This is not acceptable. I can't afford a deposit somewhere else, and because I work all week it's going to be very difficult to find time to explore neighborhoods. Does anyone know of single places/studios opening in their buildings or nearby?