Indirect Deposit

I'm going to let you folks in on a well guarded secret no one cares about.

It's not easy being me.

I repeat, its not easy being me. In fact, even I at times have difficulty managing such a show. Take for instance today, my first payday at the new job. Here, I must admit that the actual payday was Wednesday but no one bothered to tell me. This entire post would be about what I've blown my first paycheck on if that sweet slice of information were disclosed to me earlier enough to be convenient. Anyhow, I thought today was payday and when I got to work and asked my co-worker, East Euro T (real name withheld) about who I was to see concerning my check, he mumbled through whatever he was eating at the time. After a clearing and an extra moment for me to climb over his accent I realized he said, "We got paid Wednesday." He showed me who to ask and repeated how bi-weekly paydays function. I politely nodded and after receiving my check became excited about cashing it.

Its been so long, the last 2 1/2 months were financially awful. I was eager to get to a check cash place and buy a metrocard, some lunch, and walk around some more with that paranoid feeling that someone's going to rob me. I hadn't felt that last one in years, I haven't cashed a check since 2005. The plan was to avoid the bank and the account currently blooming in overdraft. At lunch time, however, I figure let me walk into the bank and see what the damage has been, I make it a point to ignore my account when its in poor shape.

"We all are, act accordingly..."

At the bank I discover my account is -$192. Not bad, I thought to myself, so then I got to further thinking. The wheels in my head were turning despite LeFou's warning of such a dangerous pass time. It shouldn't be too bad if I deposit the check here after all. I'd be saving a walk and a lot of bulky paranoia. I walk in.

I walk out, account with its belly full you would think.

But not quite. No, not at all so very quite. If I'm to follow through with the dining analogy, it was as if the food was prepared and served but the account was not to have a single bite until tomorrow...Tomorrow? But I just deposited the check...Look! Its right there, the remainder is right there, under the overdraft that appears to be the only thing available. Do I really have to wait a day? I spent the last 10 minutes before leaving my apartment this morning, combing my shelves for $2.25 in quarters; to pay for the single ride to get to work.

Maybe it just takes some hours to go through...Lets ask Google...Not good. Why? Are you serious? I have to wait a day? Fuck that I won't except it, I'll just go back after work and ask somebody, what the fuck does a search engine know anyway? A search engine doesn't even have a posable thumb...Its not even a real engine, how the hell did I expect it could motor the comprehension necessary to understand this ordeal?!

There was this one time...I was younger...I thought it'd be cool to pretend I'm drunk. I'd walk around carrying a drowsy disposition, slurring words and walks, laughing through lips and half shut eyelids. I put on the act for a few minutes when Snap! I caught a fish! My "friend" Spaceman bought into it, at least he was willing to entertain the notion. I was working for my Oscar nomination that night. Immersed into character, I let Spaceman take me to the neighboring block. Bad idea...but whoa was I ever a good drunk...subtle, not a caricature...more like a drunk person trying to act sober. I didn't even take the time to notice the first rock hurled at me, or the second for that matter. It was probably the third or forth that kissed my eye. Sharp pain, a flash of red and the sense of sober fear gripped me like a girlfriend. I thought my eye was hanging out the socket, I kept asking what happened and specifically asking if my eye was still in the socket...I felt stupid, once the pain was set in place, once the assessment of damage had been made, I only felt stupid; drunk with stupidity.

Moments like those...all you do afterwards is imagine that one decision that could've voided the rest of the accident from happening. An abortion that never came. I don't like dwelling on these phantom parallels, instead I just sit and swear to myself never to let it happen again. To always trust the first instinct that says "I don't want to do this." The problem with that instinct is that his voice is so weak and boring. No one wants to listen to that guy, especially while Cunning Logic is scatting and doing voice impressions of all your heroes and they're all convincing you that Instinct is just scared and not taking into consideration the spoils of success. It shouldn't surprise you that I listen to Cunning Logic too often, always attempting to take advantage of spontaneous situations. Sometimes I win, fewer times I lose. Today, just as back when my eye literally got rocked, I lost.

I had to play that move where you stand by the turn style in the subway and ask someone with an unlimited metrocard to swipe you through. I was lucky to find that Samaritan after asking just twice. She was sweet about it, a true saint and on my way home I regretted not asking her name since I was already planning to write this post. Thank you Samaritan.

Confessions of a Crap Artist: Can't Get Over Overdraft

About Not Having Money and Overdraft

Modern Marvels should one day include the bank concept known as Overdraft. Concept is an underplay, Phenomenon would be more accurate. The Phenomenon Known as Overdraft. Nice ring to it...could be, a one day title to a literary work of genius. A coming of age tale about some hero and his dire straits.

Jokes aside, I find it nothing but interesting that without a single cent in my bank account I will have paid my phone, web hosting, and metrocard. Of course there's the overdraft charge as nothing in life is free. When the bank covers you (or at least, when my bank covers me) there is a $32.00 or so charge that is taken from your account. Now being that there is no money in the account (that is why, after all, the account went into overdraft) this brings your account into the negatives. So when you start to fill your imaginary piggy bank, its to get your account to zero before you can actually have any real number in there.

Does it Bother Me?

Not really. I mean...in principle it sort of does but the bother doesn't really amount to much. Now that I'm working it'll sort itself out, I'm not going to waste my time and energy being angry about a few dollars here and there. Some people get really worked up over such matters. My mother for instance, was furious that I was being charged overdraft. She in a very sweet and scary, overprotective mother fashion took to shaking her fist, cursing, and snickering at the bank who handles my account. As if they could hear her from her kitchen. My mother gets excited about being angry, her temper is short, her gall is tall, and her subtlety is as bad as her english.

I don't get too angry because if you really think about it. I shouldn't have been able to pay with money that isn't really there. But I did and I was charged for it. Is it a scam? Of course, Life is one big scam and we're all scam artist...its all about who finds the best medium to work on.

Frozen Cast Away

What it Feels Like to be in Overdraft

So I'm on an island. I'm stranded there. I like the peace but it isn't a nice tropical island, abundant in food and resources; its more of a suspended iceberg, an island with a heavy layering of frosting. Everything that could truly be of use to me is buried under heavy, deep sheets of ice. I try to leave, I try to get out of there; even successfully built a raft after months of gathering parts from what I can. Its an awful looking raft but its all thats available.

Now, I've been trying to escape...but the waves. The waves push me back and I'm freezing. Its too cold and the waves crash and the further out I get, the larger and stronger they react. I, under their mercy, as they slam down on me like a hand to a mosquito. And its so cold. I've been trying week after week but to no avail, the waves are always there, proudly roaring. Yet, they pull back into the sea, as if calling me out to that calm escape I see miles away. Perhaps, they're taunting me.

I can't find a way out unless I travel under the waves. But how does one hold such a breath, or ignore such a cold? Surely, there are not enough resources available to transform my raft into a submarine. But it might be my only hope to try.