Insert Chassis Albuquerque: Chapter 6 - "My Financial Situation"

Chapter 6 - "My Financial Situation"

I should explain my financial situation further.
I was declared legally “bankrupt” and barred from ever managing or directing a company after taking a bank loan and never paying any of it back.
“Fat chance of that ever happening again!” I'd said and laughed in the magistrates face.
But knowing the exact details of my circumstance even he'd laughed.
The only difference between being 18 and having nothing is being 41 and knowing I’ve nothing and trying to do something about it.
All my life I’d had a lot of nothing.
And having all this nothing had taught me a lot.
Thus my negotiating powers in the field of poverty are outstanding.
At my bankruptcy trial the judge had asked why I hadn't just paid the bank their monthly installments.
"I was going to, your honor, but then I ran out of - what's that stuff called…?" I’d asked my court appointed attorney and snapped! my fingers like I’d seen people on the TV doing this – Snap! Snap! Snap!
"You mean money," the lawyer had said uninterestedly.
"That’s it, I ran out of money, your honor."
"Well, where is it all?"
"Most of it’s currently tied up in projects in the French Rivera, your honor," I'd lied.
“The French Rivera! Jesus! What a dreamer!” he’d said shaking his head and my lawyer, leaping to my defense at this obvious judicial prejudice, yawned.
Whilst the magistrate had expressed some sympathy he'd also instructed I pay the bank back their money.
And now the goddamn bank had sent a letter explaining how - given my current and foreseeable objectionable, financial circumstances and very low credit status - they were switching my "credit position" further downward so they could really finish me off fucking me in the ass with all the interest.
I have them on the phone now.
"Fuck You Bank - how can I be of most excellent service to you today? Hello…? Fuck You, caller…?" a voice says.
I felt close to making a radical remark.
Possibly racial.
"This is Ealing Broadway. Why’s there no goddamn money in my account you lousy bank-fucker!"
"Let me have a quick look for you, Mr Broadway - ah, yes, I can see it's because you’ve no money in your account, sir."
"I’ve no money in my account because you fuckers increased the interest on the debt 980% and withdrew the payment without informing me!"
"Our records do indicate a letter was sent informing you of this increase several weeks ago. As per our terms and conditions, Fuck You Bank are likely to change terms and conditions without prior notice.”
"You can change terms and conditions…?"
"Sure. Why not…? Did you receive our correspondence?"
"Your letter’s postmarked two goddamn weeks ago!"
"Perhaps you should contact the Post Office."
"The Post Office?"
"Yes, it's the big building where all the mail goes - do you know it? Complain to them, let them know you are dissatisfied with their service."
"980% interest is a goddamn crime - rape! Rapist!" I yelled down the phone.
"Did you say rape? To say we’re raping you when you owe that money?"
"That's what it feels like - rape!" I insisted.
"That is an inexcusable, abhorrent accusation and an extremely inappropriate analogy! Fuck You Bank takes the safety of all staff members and our customers very seriously, Mr Broadway,” and he went on to explain as they were actually "assisting" me for my own benefit, this "rape" I'd complained of was "consensual" and with my "full agreement".
I was unmoved, frankly, what was "inexcusable" was such a considerable amount of my time had already being wasted.
"That would be highly unprofessional, even more so than your suggestion of rape. Besides, if you truly feel you’re the victim of a crime, it's best you contact the relevant authority as we can offer you no advice on that…”
The stink of opportunity in the air, I said: "Well, what can you offer me…?"
"Well, as a matter of fact, Fuck You Bank does have an offer available for you, today only: $148,750 repayable over two years and this will also consolidate all previous monies outstanding – you know, that you invested in the French Rivera…?"
I thought about it.
"I see. What's the interest?"
"Ah, humans, always so consumed with the numbers and figures - has the baby got two arms, two legs, two eyes, two ears, one head? Is it mine, is it yours? Is it leaking, can it speak, when he will it speak? Best to forget about the numbers, sir, in fact, that’s our motto: FUCK YOU BANK - FORGET THE NUMBERS! As you are already a loyal customer of Fuck You Bank, the money could be available in your account within 24 hours - what do you think, would you like me to action that decision for you?"
$148,750 repayable over two years?
Sweet masturbating Moses…!
"Goddamn! Yes! I'll take it…! Please action that decision immediately…!" I agreed, because some degree of financial independence was probably a good idea.
"An excellent decision, your money will be with you in 24 hours. Fuck You Bank wishes you a fantastic evening, sir! Goodbye!"
And just like that – whilst up to my asshole deep in debt - I was back out of debt.
I could always not pay any of it back again, although it had been implied if this were to ever happen I‘d be in for some jail time.
Money, it matters.
It's very important.
In fact there’s large discrepancy between having money and not having any money to help justify definitely having a lot of it. Money influences how people may respond to you. Look at a homeless person who hasn't taken a shower in weeks and stinks like piss.
And shit.
People do one of a few things - either sympathize or beat the hobo up and take a piss on him.
The Rich, people like Shimansky, they’d ideals and principles and drugs and money and the boredom that permeated their lives to do whatever they wanted. Being almost criminally wealthy and being able to get away with it, having any money automatically gives you this kind of outlandishness only money can buy.
No one took a piss on them.
So of course money matters.
If it didn't they wouldn't keep spending endless amounts of it on wild parties and women to prove they had some.
The poor, we may be more resistant to bacterial infection and at educational disadvantage, but people also think we are poor and will remain so because we can’t read, write or do maths without stealing something. We find money so fascinating because we've so little of it.
Holy Jesus! $148,750!
To celebrate I was going to buy myself a car - what decent man wouldn’t…!

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