average life

I opened up the envelope with a notion of what was inside. Confirming my suspicion was a shimmering new teal and gray “Platinum” Mastercard. (It actually shimmered. There was some sort of glitter embedded into the card’s surface.)

According to the letter that accompanied the card, after activation, I would have “immediate access to [my] new credit line of $500.” Apparently “Platinum” had depreciated in value significantly over the last few years.

I got the card after hearing from everyone (friends, coworkers, strangers on the street) that I needed to do something to establish my credit. I figured it was probably a good idea considering the likelihood that I would have to buy a car in the next couple of years.

My car had it’s imperfections, but I’d always thought of them as personality quirks. The driver’s door couldn’t be unlocked from the outside, the passenger side window needed a wrench to be opened, the air-conditioner didn’t work, the right front headlight was being held in with Gorilla Glue, the front left corner was smashed in a bit from my accident, the driver’s side mirror was also being held on with Gorilla Glue, the “check engine” and overdrive lights were usually lit, and the accessory instrument panel light was erratic.

I had never had a credit card before. My parents were financially conservative and while I was the sixth of seven children, I remember when my parents got their first card. Much of this conservatism was ingrained in their kids. When I told them I was getting a credit card, the first thing the said was, “be careful.” I called and activated the card and placed it on my desk as if it were made of kryptonite (and I was Superman in order to make the analogy relevant). I decided not to put it into my wallet just yet.

The next day I went to church and picked a chair close to the side to avoid any eye contact with the instructor. He announced the lesson to be about proper management of temporal resources which snowballed into the participants of the class relating nightmare after credit card nightmare. I took a deep breath and glanced at the clock on my phone. I noticed the new voicemail icon and after the credit card one-upping was adjourned with a prayer, I ducked outside to check it.

It was my boss. Apparently someone had stolen my company credit card number and was running up charges with it. He told me to cut it up and I’d be sent a new one in a couple of days.

I went home and slid the glitzy card into my wallet. If I only used it to pay for gas and paid the balance every month, I reasoned, then everything would be alright. The next day while surfing the internet, I found an iTunes Visa rewards card….

Gas money on the MasterCard. The iTunes Visa could probably wait.