Saturday, June 21, 2008

So my pal is with a college degree now, but wants to be the Sexton at the Episcopal church instead of manage the cell-phony store where he just started as a sales man.

You know those little store-front cell phone stores with their meager displays and nothing much to do but stand there with a co-worker and wait for a customer (who is usually coming in to down-grade).

He's stuck there so I wanted to stop by and take advantage, that he had a leash that could only go so far, and an invisible cage so he couldn't deck me if I got out of line.

I put him through his paces as a salesman, which I suppose helped pass the time of his shift.
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I said, suppose the worst. That I had no lifeline at all. Like my last enabler was gone to St. Peter and I needed a cell phone.

His first question actually startled me, since I am not frontal-lobed. He said that depends on your credit.

So we looked up to see if I had any of this mysterious.

And The Phone Company said my credit was fine! We were both surprised. I don't mean mildly surprised, I mean like, holy moses, and our eyes darting around instinctually for signs of danger or a trick.

What about the student loans from the '80s, I defaulted on. What about the millions of dollars I owe doctors and hospitals? And as a drunk, there never was a landlord I didn't eventually go out the window to escape. I know at least two of them filed lawsuits in my 25 years of postponing The Hangover.

So! It wasn't going to be a track-phone then, if this situation arrived where I was actually orphaned. I'd be able to sign a contract and get a free phone!

We went to the wall and I saw all the prices writ large. But those were not the prices. Not those in large print.

He said something like, "The large print gives, the small print take-ess away." A Tom Waits aphormism , he told me.

I said, can you save that credit report to file? Can you show the credit report has already been done? Ha, ha. No. What if you went and blew it this afternoon?

So I went home and applied for a credit card. Because who knows in this crazy world that has always let me be. Maybe I can finally go American. In which case I can, for instance, get a plane ticket to come stay at your house for awhile if I'm ever in trouble.

Am I in recovery? Summers are iffy. So we cross our fingers and hope the world does not extend me credit. Because you know why? Then my credit score would go down, of course.

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