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by D. Cashon Klein
Ever since I decided to opt for a more
positive outlook and bring good things into my universe, the Fates
decided to make my life a parlor game called, "Toss obstacles at
the pathetic mortal and see how long it takes her to crack."
I had just placed a collage on my desk of
all the good things I wanted in my life so that I could meditate on
it and magically manifest them. "To be Patient and Kind" was a
sentence I had pasted on my collage to summon into my new, positive
life. All I needed to do was concentrate and picture myself as a
very patient and kind human being…
My phone rang on a Sunday afternoon. I was
in the middle of dying my hair. A small, shy voice said, "Good
afternoon Mrs. Klein." I told her there was no Mrs. Klein here.
There was a hushed silence. She was confused. "Do I have the wrong
number?" the shy, trembling voice asked. I remembered my pledge to
be patient and kind. "It's MS. Klein." I said in a pleasant tone.
"Well, MS. Klein," the little girl said, "Vee (not WE, but VEE)
have a special gift just for you for being a preferred card
member."
She went on to tell me how much my
business meant to them, and they wanted to provide me with the very
best protection against identity theft, loss of my job (through no
fault of my own) or death. In other words, all I had to do was pay
five dollars a month, on every hundred dollars of my balance, and
they would not make me liable for payments should someone steal my
identity, or I get FIRED (through no fault of my own) or I
died.
In my most patient voice, the voice I
reserve for children who are thinking about putting dirty hands on
my clean walls, I said, "Now why would you want to do that?"
"I beg your pardon ma'am?" (I detected a
quiver of fear.)
"Well, why would you want to charge me,
let's see, based on my balance… why would you want to
charge me $100 a month to provide a service that should be
free?"
She told me she didn't understand, that
the company thought of me as a good customer, and as such, would
like to offer me this very special protection. I told her that her
company should automatically provide this service. After all, they
came to me touting the wonderful services they would provide.
It went without saying, in my mind, that
should I be laid off and have no income, or should some schmuck
steal my card or my identity, that I should not be responsible for
payments anyway. I shouldn't have to friggin' pay an
extra… 100 dollars extra, every month, for that service
since I was such a valuable customer.
The fates were gripping their sides in
laughter.
"Let me speak to your supervisor." I said.
She patched me through to the U.S. where a cocky young man,
probably half my age, said, "Is there a problem Mrs. Klein?" I was
not going to correct him about the Mrs. thing. I needed to maintain
the power position in my attack.
"Your company wants to extort a fee from
me to do something that any honorable company should do
automatically. You want me to pay, every month, for a protection
plan so that if I become injured, or unemployed or the victim of
theft… or become dead, I would not have to pay my monthly
payments. I find this ludicrous. What is it you people do to
actually compete for business? How exactly does the customer
benefit by being one of your cardholders? Your 0% interest was a
lie. That lasted exactly 30 days from the time I got my card. The
no yearly fee is true, but you can still double my minimum payment
should I pay you one day late. So what favor are you doing me
here?"
"We have chosen to offer this protection
plan to our most valuable customers, Mrs. Klein, so that you may
have the piece of mind that protection provides against unfortunate
situations." Patience and kindness had officially been crossed off
my positive manifestations collage.
"Listen, I said, I want you to pass this
along to your CEO. Are you writing this down?" He chuckled,
"Ma'am, I assure you that the CEO is not likely to take any
suggestions from me …"
"Write this down. I assure you, should
some guy in Podunk, Kentucky become Debbie Klein and buy $3,000
worth of tattoos, I am not going to pay you. Should I become
paralyzed by some idiot in a behemoth Hummer who doesn't see my
humble little Honda, I will not pay you. Should my company lay me
off, I will not pay you until I am employed again because groceries
and rent and gas will take priority. And should I DIE, I can assure
you, YOU WILL NOT BE PAID."
With a trembling hand I hung up the phone.
My dye had been on so long that I was sure my hair would be an
attractive eggplant shade. I knew I had lost this round. The fates
had won and were already planning the next round…
laryngitis.
Debbie Cashon Klein is a Safety Harbor
resident.
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