Bill Collectors They Ring My Phone...

Someone was recently telling me how broke they were and cited not being able to buy the new iPhone as an example. Anonymous person, if you're reading this please come closer to the screen. That doesn't make you broke. I know broke. I studied it in undergrad and have the plaques on the wall to prove it. Some would call them credit reports, but I prefer to think of them as diplomas. I've graduated from middle class concerns. Not being able to buy a telephone doesn't necessarily make you broke. Getting a bill collector to pray for you over the phone...Now that makes you broke.

The year was 2004. I went through a Lemony Snicket's series of unfortunate events and found myself under the ire of bill collectors everywhere. I felt like I'd just won the lottery because so many people were calling and asking me for money. It started to look like Groundhog Day. The same thing happened over and over again. Just like Bill Murray's character, I started to feel like a god too. I could predict the future: "Gust of wind, car passes by, Visa calls Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."

"Hi is this Ordale?"

Yes, this is Ordale and you're calling from Visa about my account, but before you can proceed you have to inform me that this is an attempt to collect a debt and any information obtained will be used for that purpose. You want to talk to me about the $958.43 that has been outstanding for four months. You're going to ask me what I want to do about this balance. Then you're going to end your script by telling me that you can accept check by phone.

I'm going to tell you that a job has not magically appeared since I last spoke with you two days ago and that even if one did manifest from thin air that there is no way I could work enough hours in just two days to pay that amount. I'll go on to say that even if I did find a magic job and I worked 48 hours in a row just to pay you and not my rent or anything else, then I'd still have to wait because most places pay bi-weekly and two days is only 12 days shy of bi-weekly.

You'll ask me in an absurdly casual manner if I can borrow the money from someone, perhaps a friend. I'll turn around and say that since I've spoken to you every two days for the last few weeks and you know so much about my personal affairs, that I consider us to be friends. I'll then ask you if I can borrow $958.43. One of us will hang up on the other.

Surprisingly, she hung up. But that still doesn't explain how I got one of them to pray for me. That's a long story. I'll share my dissertation on that Monday.