Shooting the messenger

Tuesday was one of those days where the yelling and screaming just got to me, and I called in sick on Wednesday. Having a day off can be dangerous, and in this case led to a rash of personal decisions that might not have happened otherwise. Sometimes you just need something to push you over the edge, and Tuesday was it.

I called a small balance account I'd gotten a positive phone number for - a small balance account being any loan under about 2K, but still high enough to put into a rehabilitation program. I'd called in the morning, was told he'd just left to run an errand, and he called back immediately.

And he was pissed.

It was a brand new account to the office, so I saw no payment history, and the first thing he started in on me for was the 6K tax offset he'd been hit with just two weeks previously.

"Dude, how do I get that back? My loans were in deferment. I need that cash. I'm unemployed, and that was going to be able to put money in the house."

I'd started a bit of the conversation with the financial statement to move the process forward after continued discussion about why things might have fallen through and the possibilities of what might have happened with the deferment. Reasonable guy.

Then the fatal words. "Hold on, let me put my wife on - you have my permission to speak with her."

(The "talk to my wife" with men goes one of two ways. If he is being belligerent and unreasonable, then getting his wife on the phone usually diffuses the situation and things resolve with a rehabilitated loan. If the man is being cool and reasonable prior to that statement, you are screwed. Oh - and turn down the heatset volume. Quick.)

Yelling I can handle. Four letter screaming fits I can deal with. Condescension, on the other hand...

"Look here - I don't know what you are trying to peddle, but we are having none of it. You need to tell me why you think we owe you this money, why you think we should pay any of it to you. I will simply call bank X that we borrowed it from, and you will get nothing."

I tried to explain to her that "bank X" had already been paid, and she was now dealing with the guarantor.

"Fine - give me their number then."

I can, but they will tell you to contact us.

"So you're telling me you can't give me any information about this whatsoever...can you do anything at all, or do you just sit on the phone yammer at people?"

After a little more time of this, I finally hand her off to the senior collector. She is going to fax over a whole pile of papers, and then we'll see what happens.

All told - over an hour and a half on the phone.

Next up is what I think should be a guaranteed rehabilitation. It was an account that I found a place of employment on the credit report (more new business) and needed to follow up on.

Called the business, everyone very polite. Oh yes, they say, she works over in this department - let me transfer you over there. Line was busy, and after investing the half hour or so into getting the direct number from the place of employment, I figured this would be a good return to form after that disaster of a call.

"Yes."

"Hi, my name is Nick, I was calling because..."

"Don't you EVER call me here again, you slimy son of a bitch."

Click.

15K, down the tubes. No home phone, references disconnected. Garnishment for someone in April, but not me, since I doubt I'll be around by then.

I took my fifteen minute break, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went outside. It was dark already, so I just walked over to the edge of the parking lot and stared out into the blackness. If I could have found any way to justify just getting into my car and driving off at that point, I would have.

This is hit goal or be finished month, and up to that point I didn't have a single rehabilitated loan (as of now I still only have two). A number of things in my personal life have also come to a breaking point as well, including some options regarding the future coming to a point of no return (if they haven't already and I'm just not paying attention).

So I got in my car on Wednesday, and called in an emergency day. First time calling in because I didn't feel like showing up, which is definitely the sign of needing to move on. And I will, along with having made some other serious changes. Things are being shaken up, and hopefully for the better. We'll find out soon enough.