I have had two extraordinarily unfortunate wake up calls during the last month. The first, being the a-hole cop who pounded on my door at 11:30 on a Saturday morning, told me my car got hit whilst parked, and subsequently gave me a citation.
Number two happened today. I maybe applied for a small loan over the internets. No, that was not a typo, I meant to say internets. This morning, instead of Elliot Smith gently nudging me from my slumber with the sweet melody "Say Yes," Radiohead hit me with the Karma Police. Which means I got a phone call. It was a kindly loan officer. She informed me that I would not be approved due to bad credit. Perplexed, I asked how that was possible, as I have a good credit score. Or at least did 6 months ago. She told me that I had a delinquent balance on a Bank of America credit card in the sum of 130 dollars. I sat there for a moment in silence, raking my mind for any memory of a credit card transaction.
As far as I knew, I didn't even own a Bank of America credit card. So I frigging called them.
After 10 unbelievably frustrating minutes of talking to a machine and getting nowhere, I finally had to say that I was interested in opening up an account in order to talk to someone with flesh and ear drums. By this point I was pretty pissed. I explained my dilemma, and he informed me that I did indeed have a delinquent balance. I asked what in the hell from. He informed me that I had made a 45 dollar credit card purchase at Urban Outfitters in November.
With a sickening sense of dread, it all came rushing back.
I bought a $100 dollar coat. I had an old B of A checking account with $50 still in it, and I wanted to clear it out. Apparently I foolishly assumed that the card used was a debit card, as I did not recall ever applying for a credit card. Coat purchased, I went on my merry way, without ever giving it a second thought.
As my Bank of America mail all still goes to North Carolina, I never received any delinquent notices. This was basically a ticking time bomb on my credit. Actually more like a blood sucking leech. A huge, vile, blood sucking leech that attaches itself to your nether regions and you never know it is there until one day you think, hmm. I have quality blood. I should go donate it. You saunter into the blood bank, ready to save humanity. "Gee sir. I'm sorry, we can't accept your blood. You have that filthy leech there, sucking away and you don't have enough blood to give. Also, you owe us 130 bucks. Pay or die."
I am just glad I randomly applied for a loan, as the leech would have likely grown to lethal proportions, and completely flushed my credit score down the toilet to China. I don't know how I would have ever found out.
I guess what It all boils down to is I bough a coat which ended up costing me $230 and over 100 points on my credit score. That is one expensive damn coat.
It's not even that cool.
1 comment:
Relax man. I was just razzing you. Thats right, razzing. Also, I am not a "self-proclaimed PIMP". That is more in jest than anything. Anyone who knows me, you can concur, knows how much of a pimp i am not. Nice coat by the way.
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