$2,440
$2,440 is an interesting number. It is enough, apparently, to ruin a friendship. It's certainly seems to be enough to screw people over for. That is, of course, not including interest, because I never did like the equations for it. Neither is it including bills, which we happily paid to help a so-called friend out.
$2,440.
All the money from Rowan's 21st birthday present - designed to buy him a computer of his own, to do thesis work on. All the money I'd saved. And a loan from some people. That's what it took to come up with the cash. Which we did - for a "friend."
A "friend" who never did have the grace to murmur a simple "thanks" when we covered his debt, and kept a roof over his head. Who lied to my face when I asked "do you have the cash to cover rent this week?"
$2,440.
It would have paid for a lovely honeymoon. It could pay for a holiday in Greece. It could be a down-payment on a car, the beginning of a house deposit. It could be a computer.
$2,440.
We returned his possessions, although we had the legal right to hold them until he paid. We didn't sue him, because an innocent party would have been hurt. We don't speak badly of him, but for a warning: "If it is in his best interests, he won't hesitate to screw you over. Drink with him, hang out with him... but don't trust him."
$2,440. Somehow, we're the "evil" ones. Naive, sure. Over-trusting, certainly... but we're not the ones walking around with more debt than we can pay off, bad-mouthing our creditors. Speaking of honour, as if screwing over people who help you is a worthy thing.
$2,440. A high enough number that when I explain how I have nothing to do with a certain... individual, people go "ah... fair enough." A high enough number that we're still struggling to get back on our feet from draining our resources utterly.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
I'm tempted to smash that Gimli mug into dust. But I refrain - I'm better than he is.
$2,440.
$2,440.
Do you know who I mean? Isn't it a pity when people regret their former acquaintances. Ah, the joys of being around true friends.
$2,440 - not including the amount that he's stolen from others - a TV here, some food there, bills somewhere else... no wonder he moves every few months.
$2,440+x... I wonder how long his past will take to catch up with him? No wonder Coffs Harbour was too small... how many geek-ish social groups are there in Sydney? We're an insular lot, and Sydney isn't as big as it seems.
$2,440. I won't forget. And, if I have anything to say about it... neither will he.
$2,440. If only I could set him on fire, like I can in the Sims, and watch him do a happy burning dance.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
Two thousand, four hundred and forty dollars.
Two Thousand, four Hundred, and forty dollars.
To think, we gave him the opportunity to call it quits at a thousand, and he countered with three hundred.
TWO THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND FOURTY DOLLARS.
TWO THOUSAND. FOUR HUNDRED. AND FOURTY DOLLARS.
TWO THOUSAND.
FOUR HUNDRED.
AND FOURTY DOLLARS.
I want my money back.
$2,440.
All the money from Rowan's 21st birthday present - designed to buy him a computer of his own, to do thesis work on. All the money I'd saved. And a loan from some people. That's what it took to come up with the cash. Which we did - for a "friend."
A "friend" who never did have the grace to murmur a simple "thanks" when we covered his debt, and kept a roof over his head. Who lied to my face when I asked "do you have the cash to cover rent this week?"
$2,440.
It would have paid for a lovely honeymoon. It could pay for a holiday in Greece. It could be a down-payment on a car, the beginning of a house deposit. It could be a computer.
$2,440.
We returned his possessions, although we had the legal right to hold them until he paid. We didn't sue him, because an innocent party would have been hurt. We don't speak badly of him, but for a warning: "If it is in his best interests, he won't hesitate to screw you over. Drink with him, hang out with him... but don't trust him."
$2,440. Somehow, we're the "evil" ones. Naive, sure. Over-trusting, certainly... but we're not the ones walking around with more debt than we can pay off, bad-mouthing our creditors. Speaking of honour, as if screwing over people who help you is a worthy thing.
$2,440. A high enough number that when I explain how I have nothing to do with a certain... individual, people go "ah... fair enough." A high enough number that we're still struggling to get back on our feet from draining our resources utterly.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
I'm tempted to smash that Gimli mug into dust. But I refrain - I'm better than he is.
$2,440.
$2,440.
Do you know who I mean? Isn't it a pity when people regret their former acquaintances. Ah, the joys of being around true friends.
$2,440 - not including the amount that he's stolen from others - a TV here, some food there, bills somewhere else... no wonder he moves every few months.
$2,440+x... I wonder how long his past will take to catch up with him? No wonder Coffs Harbour was too small... how many geek-ish social groups are there in Sydney? We're an insular lot, and Sydney isn't as big as it seems.
$2,440. I won't forget. And, if I have anything to say about it... neither will he.
$2,440. If only I could set him on fire, like I can in the Sims, and watch him do a happy burning dance.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
$2,440.
Two thousand, four hundred and forty dollars.
Two Thousand, four Hundred, and forty dollars.
To think, we gave him the opportunity to call it quits at a thousand, and he countered with three hundred.
TWO THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND FOURTY DOLLARS.
TWO THOUSAND. FOUR HUNDRED. AND FOURTY DOLLARS.
TWO THOUSAND.
FOUR HUNDRED.
AND FOURTY DOLLARS.
I want my money back.