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But in the meantime, we struggle. We get money back from our taxes and have to put it all toward paying off the loan we took out in Portland, which is still accumulating interest at the rate of twenty-nine percent and which we haven’t been able to pay down. We simply aren’t making enough to pay all the bills we have. Our credit cards are maxed out, we can’t afford the minimum payments, and collectors have started calling, asking when we’re going to pay.
“Don’t worry about it,” Scott tells me. “It’ll work out.”
I try not to let it get to me. But it’s hard when I go to meet Scott after work and I use the rest of my tip money to take us out to eat, and then we spend the entire time talking about how we can’t pay our bills. We stop at the bank machine on our way home and take out a two hundred dollar cash advance on our credit card, the only one with anything left on it, in order to make the minimum payments on our other cards. When we get home we find another stack of bills in our mailbox, including one for the computer, which has charged us a thirty dollar late fee.
“But I paid that!” I complain.
“I guess they didn’t get it in time.”
I call the customer service number listed in fine print on the bill and make my way through the choices in the automated system. After a few minutes, I’ve discovered that the late charge was applied on the sixth, and our payment was received on the seventh. One day. I press the number to be connected with a representative and wait for twenty minutes before someone asks if they can help me. I explain what happened, but I’m told that nothing can be done about it. The late fee has already been applied, and it’s non-reversible.
I hang up. They don't need that extra thirty dollars, yet they're going out of their way to squeeze it out of us. It's all about profit. They don’t care that I have to work hard for thirty dollars and that we could really use that money. They can charge it, so they do. More for them.
“You know what?” Scott says, holding the bill in his hand, “Screw them. Seriously. I want them out of our lives. I don’t ever want to use them again.”
“What, credit cards? You don’t ever want to use credit cards again?” I think he’s joking.
“Right. I hate them. I want them out of our lives.” He’s dead serious.
“But we need them.”
“No we don’t.”
“We use them all the time.”
“So, we’ll stop using them all the time.”
“But we’ll default on our minimum payments,” I point out.
“Then we’ll default. Better than just sinking ourselves in deeper and deeper.”
“We’d have a lot less spending money.”
“Credit is not our money. It’s credit, money lent to us that we have to pay back, with interest. It’s money that’s making money for other people. Not us.”
I reach over and hand him the scissors, calling his bluff. “Alright, cut the cards up, then.”
“Okay, I will.”
We both collect our cards and drop them on the table. “You really want to do this?” I ask.
“We’ll keep one for emergencies,” Scott says, and cuts the rest in half.
We stand still, staring at each other after it’s done. We can barely believe what we just did. It was amazingly easy, yet strangely difficult at the same time. I’ve become so used to having them, counting on them, knowing they’re there. But they didn’t do us any good. We’ve never had an emergency that we couldn’t have gotten through without them. Besides, we have five thousand dollars in credit card debt, which will take us years to pay off, and what do we even have to show for it? I can’t even really remember what we bought. It the end, it was always our money that bought what we charged. Credit cards were merely taking advantage of our desire for instant gratification. Well we’re not working to support them anymore. We’re not investing all this energy and hard work so that we can increase their earnings! They have enough money. We need to support ourselves and each other.
Year Five
Education
I don’t remember where I heard it. Maybe in a movie. Or maybe I read it somewhere. At any rate, it sticks with me: “Discover what you love to do, and then find a way to make a living at it.” It takes hold and becomes my mantra. Discover what you love, discover what you love, discover what you love.
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