Credit card companies are my BFF. No, not in the sense that I’ve been living off of them and evading the numerous 1-800 and unavailable calls several times a day, but in the sense that they are helping me stay fiscally responsible. Yay adulthood. We finally meet and you are much lovelier in person than I imagined.
So, I finally sat down and called another of my credit card companies. I told them I was unemployed. They hadn’t received the carrier pigeon I had sent yet, so it was a surprise to them. We cried, hugged and shared a salt lick. Maybe I got a little ahead of myself. I almost cried with excitement and I ate salty Goldfish, but there was no hugging. We haven’t reached that level of commitment yet.
I am constantly floored by own misconceptions on how credit card companies work. I’d expect my credit card company to fling bad credit scores at me, laughing all the way, and wait for me to declare bankruptcy or step in and liquidate my assets — not that my assets would take long to liquidate but you get my point.
So when I did call them — my bad for not calling sooner even though I said I would — imagine my surprise when my honesty got me six months of no interest and locked me in at $50 a month payments. Before anyone goes out and offers up their own job to join the ranks of the cool, hip unemployed kids, let it be known that my credit card is closed and unusable. Any random joy-rides and trips to Seattle, Los Angeles, DC or Athens (Ohio) are now subject to postponement. It’s okay, kids. My choice was semi-closing the card for six months or monthly payments I couldn’t afford. Score two for adulthood.
I also should note the other fine print that goes along with my new deal that when my six months of bliss are over, it will go back to the APR before, and oh, if I miss a payment my relationship with my BFF is over. If only all relationships were that easy to follow then I might be successful at things other than calling my credit card companies and professing my unemployment status. One small step for paying off more debt and one giant leap towards adulthood. And one BFF forever — or at least the next six months.
