Credit.
What a freaky word. I don't even like the way it feels in my mouth. Credit... creditcreditcredit. Bleh.
This morning I got an oh-so-nice (are you drowning in sarcasm yet?) wake-up call from a lady who said she was from my bank but I heard the distinct crackle of the line and the accent that just screamed "DUBAI! DUBAI!" Anyway, she told me that my debit card had potentially been compromised. I didn't know whether to believe her or not, but she told me she was going to close my card and that I had to go to the bank and get a temporary one until a new one could be sent to me within 30 days. I figured if it was a hoax then a) I'd figure it out at the bank later and b) if it was, there wasn't really anything I could do to stop her over the phone AND thousands of miles away.
Well, as it turned out it wasn't a hoax. Something about that parking meter on 16th and Johnson stumped that bank! Never mind the fact that I have used that same parking meter probably a dozen times in the last 3 months... but whatever. So I was talking to the personal banker, a girl who is probably younger than me but with infinitely better fashion sense. She asked me if I was interested in a credit card.
Why yes, actually, I am interested.
I have been meaning to work on my credit for a while now. I don't have bad credit... oh no. Worse.. I have NO credit! Anyway, she explained some options to me and I tried to figure out what was a marketing ploy and what was real. I think I actually did a pretty good job. So anyway, I made some decisions and submitted an application. The system took the application and instantly (and I do mean instantly) spit back a counter-offer. Because I have no credit, I have to put down a deposit and then, when I've proved myself worthy, I'll get the deposit back and graduate to a real credit card. I read the fine print and was satisfied with the situation. So I submitted the application for that card and am now waiting for either confirmation or denial.
Damn... I feel all grown up and shit!
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