My
dad called me Saturday night to let me know that a creditor called their
residence in Seguin, Texas (where I have never officially lived). Dad wasn't
there, so his wife Cindy answered, and this jackass informed her that he was
with a law firm and needed to speak to John Rabon IMMEDIATELY. (My dad's name
is John.)
He
pressed her for a bit and then informed her that he (I) owes $17,000 for a credit card, and that they were
about to issue a warrant for his (my) arrest.
Okay,
the guy on the phone was actually a phone monkey in a collection agency run out
of a "law firm" that does strictly debt collecting. These guys are so
good at what they do, they end up calling my dad in another city instead of my
phone number that hasn't changed since I've been divorced.
A
warrant for my arrest? Wow that's scary. I'd hate to end up in one of the many
debtor's prisons we have all over America. Shit...I could become an indentured
servant. Oh wait a second, it's not the 18th Century. You can't actually do
that. Nice try, dipshit.
Threatening
to have someone arrested may work on the ignorant and the clean cut, but I...am
neither. I've been arrested before, pole choker...you can't scare a poor drunk
with a record. You can't even find me.
And
besides, I'm just following in the footsteps of our country's leaders. What
about the national debt, huh? I figure, hey, what's good enough for America is
good enough for Uncle Cranky.
I'll
just pay for shit in cash.