Part 24 (2/2)
”Dunno. We don't know anyone with a cell phone in the 630 area code, right?”
”Probably a wrong number. Let voice mail get it.”
A minute after the phone rings, we hear the doorbell.
”What the h.e.l.l?” I ask. I look out the back window and see a couple of unfamiliar cars idling in our parking lot. ”Fletch, what's going on?”
”I don't know. I'll go down and answer the door.”
”Here, take this.” I thrust a rolling pin at him.
”Do you want me to bake them a pie? I'll be fine.” He heads downstairs to the front door.
I stand by the phone, ready to call the police. I see Fletch walk out to his SUV and talk to the small group of people gathered around it. One of the guys appears to have a badge. Exactly what is going on here? Did these guys catch someone trying to steal our car? Uh-oh, I hope our insurance is up-to-date. Fletch handles all our bills but I'm starting to wonder what kind of job he's been doing. Lately we've gotten calls from bill collectors, although Fletch swears it's by mistake.
I watch as he begins to take items out of the car. He makes a small pile of CDs and his emergency road repair kit. Then I see him take his keys out of his pocket and hand them to the man with the badge. Mr. Badge gets into the car and starts it, slowly backing out of our parking s.p.a.ce.
A couple of minutes later, Fletch returns.
”What is going on? Who were those people? Why did he have a badge? Where is he going with our car?”
Fletch silently goes to the fridge, gets out another beer, and lights the first cigarette I've ever seen him smoke inside the house. He sits down heavily on the couch and puts his face in his hands. I rush to his side.
”Fletch, what just happened to your car?”
Fletch puffs slowly and pensively on his cigarette, finally answering, ”It was repossessed.”
”I don't understand. We're current on the car payment.”
”Jen, we're not current on anything.”
”What do you mean?” I look at him, waiting for a reaction, but he sits motionless. ”Wait. Are you saying the repossession wasn't a mistake? What do we have to do to get it back?”
”We have to pay off the loan in full.”
”Which is how much?”
”$7000, which is approximately $6995 more than we have. The car is gone. We're not getting it back.”
I sit quietly for a few minutes, absorbing the information. ”But what are we going to do without a car? How are either of us going to get a job without a car?”
”I don't know.”
”If you didn't pay the car note, then what about the rest of our bills? Are we still OK? You said we'd be OK on bills for a while.”
”I lied. I haven't paid a lot of them in a couple of months. All the money we have has gone toward rent and utilities.”
I walk into Fletch's office and find a stack of unopened letters marked Delinquent, Past Due, and Third Request. ”Why didn't you open these?”
”I knew we couldn't pay them, so I didn't bother.”
”Honey, why didn't you talk to me about any of this?”
”I didn't want to worry you.” Fletch drops his cigarette in an empty beer bottle, where it fizzles for a couple of seconds.
”So what can I do now to help?”
”I don't know, Jen. I just don't know.”
To: [email protected] From: David Date: June 12, 2003 Subject: Idiots with Jobs A year ago my wife and I got laid off from two different companies in the same week. Like you, the money runs thin eventually. So I am driving down Long Island wondering what I can do about it and I come upon a diner advertising for people. Well, s.h.i.+t, I thought, I will give that a go.
Apparently not.
Apparently you can't get a job in a diner until you've had a number of years experience, or so the toothless wonder who ran the place informed me. ”Oh no, you don't wait tables in a 3 million dollar diner straight off.” So it would appear that while I was out there running 50 million dollar computer operations in Europe and the US, I was actually wasting my time. I should have been in Mamma's Greasy Poke Shoppe paying my dues for my future career.
I didn't get the job and I still don't have a job, nor does my wife, but I solved a problem that I know has been getting to you, Jen. Now we know why the idiots have all the jobs!!
David
To: David From: Date: June 13, 2003 Subject: RE: Idiots with Jobs David, I am infuriated for you, although I can't say I'm surprised. I hear this kind of story a lot lately. One of my doggie park buddies (ex-consulting firm employee) had an interview at Neiman Marcus and the interviewer didn't see how her previous experience controlling work flow, communicating with the client, supervising employees, and managing time and budget had properly prepared her to ring up scarves, key rings, and pantyhose.
It's completely insane out there-try to stay strong, Jen
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