“There’s a $4.94 interest charge on my account,” I complained to the customer service rep at American Express. “It shouldn’t be there; I signed up for autopay.”
I heard a snicker. I’m sure she’s heard that as many times as the warden has heard, “I’m not guilty.” “Well, let’s look at your account,” she said in a cheery voice.
I had to get her to understand; I was different. “I know the charge doesn’t sound like much, but I pay off all my accounts monthly,” I explained. “I’ve never spent a cent in interest. I’ve tracked everything I’ve spent since 1980.” I probably shouldn’t be bragging; I should be checking myself in.
“I get it,” she said. “Every penny counts.” Was that a pun? This Penny counts every last nickle. Did I dare tell her I’d once found a hairdresser I’d gone to five years before when neither my daughter nor I could remember the name of the salon, by searching for “hair” in Quicken?
Instead I confessed, “I know it sounds anal.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m a wannabe OCD housekeeper,” she said, then paused a second. “But I’m basically lazy.”
We both laughed. “I’m not very good at consistency,” she admitted. I understood. I’m not a great housekeeper either. I’m most consistent at inconsistency. “The interest is taken care of,” the nice representative said. “Have a good evening.”
I’ve decided tomorrow I’m going splurge on something frivolous with my $4.94. Maybe buy a gallon of gas.
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Better buy that gas today! Wait very long and prices will be above $5.00.
Can I hand over my checkbook over to you? I wish I had your diligence.