In the interest of honesty and forthrightness, whatever that is, let me show you how immoral I really am.

Because I don’t have any respect for political correctness, preferring not be be voluntarily stupid, because I’m an atheist, and because I don’t care what kind of sex anyone has with any one or any thing, people make the incorrect presumption that I do not embrace “normal” values, or at least not in general.  I thought I’d show you that’s just not true this morning.  Wait. I’m going to show you this morning, that that is just not true.

When I got hurt, I was about a year into  a four year contract on this van.  The reason the contract was so long, is because I was paying a high interest rate for the loan, thanks to my darling then-wife, The Heifer. Turns out that when I was on the road and away working, she wasn’t exactly paying all the bills the way they should have been, and my credit rating was nothing to be proud of. Who knew? I should have, yes, but I didn’t. Ok, so, when I bought the van, high interest rate, longer contract, bigger payments.

I get how it works, and I understand: high interest rate, high payments, or not, I went into the contract voluntarily.  My choice.  My debt.

Now I get hurt, and for a while, the money situation is fine.  Payments on the car, while high, are doable, and nothing is missed.  Then, at virtually the same time…within a day or two of each other…the engine eats itself and my income goes down $3600 a month, due to the vagaries of the wonderful and incomprehensible Workman’s Comp program.

Oh.

Well, it was grim, but it was simple.  Got to have some place to live, that’s first, gotta have electricity and water and gas for the stove and heat and all, that’s next. Got to have dog food.  After that, there was very little money left for anything. Sometimes Jeny and I didn’t eat, or we could only afford to eat off the dollar menu at Mc Donald’s (thank you, Jesus, for that!,) and often people gave us food or sent plates of food home for us (bless them, too, if there’s really a god, and thank you guys, even if there ain’t) but getting the car repaired was out of the question, as was making that high payment every month.  And I really couldn’t afford insurance for a car that was broken and sitting in my driveway.

Still, I owed them the money, and that means something to me. In my world, the moral thing to do if you contract for something, and get that something, is to pay for it. Yet, I couldn’t, not under these conditions. But, I reasoned, if I explain things to them, I’m sure we can work something out.

I called them.

I explained that I was a new cripple, that I’m working my way thru the Workman’s Comp system, that my income just took a horrible hit, that my income will go up again, it will just be a bit of time, and that I can get paperwork to prove everything I’m telling them. I told them I was willing to pay some every month, maybe $100, $150 or so, but even that was a stretch under the circumstances. Still, I own the money, I’m doing what I can do and being honest about it.

They were very understanding of my plight, but made it clear that they were not in a position to take anything less that a full payment from me, and anything like refinancing was out of the question.  I went thru it with her again, explaining very carefully that it’s not that I don’t want to pay them, that it’s not that I was saving up for a trip to the fucking Bahamas or anything, it was that I physically do not have the money to pay them. It is just that simple, and I’m trying to do what I can to make it as right as I can.

…uh huh, that’s very interesting, sir, and we sure are sorry, but you’ll need to make these payments or we’ll have to repossess the vehicle…

Supervisor, please? 
Certainly, sir, please hold…

I explained yet again, patiently, quietly, calmly, and she understood. Took notes, I think, asked questions. She said she couldn’t make the decisions, that it would have to go to a review of some sort, but she felt certain something could be worked out.  If I would just call her tomorrow, she’d have some word for me.

Great, that took a weight off my shoulders, and every pound counted, let me tell you.

The next day I called all eager and shit, only to be told that the review board regretted that there was nothing to be done. I needed to pay the full amount of the payments or they would have to come for the vehicle. (not car, not van, vee-hicle…)  I was floored, and felt the faint stirrings of anger, and discussed it with the supervisor yet again, just to make sure there was nothing she was missing. Nope, she had it all, the review people had it all, and now I could pay or they’d take the car.

I told her a little less graciously that they could take it, then, since I could not pay them. She told me they would forward “my file” to the legal department, where they will watch the account and when I miss three payments, they will come for it, but they would contact me first.  Which they did. They wanted to know what was wrong with the engine…

It’s broke.

I see, do you mean it doesn’t run?

Well, it did when we stopped driving it, but it was making a horrid racket inside the engine.  Some kinda shit’s all broke up in there.

So it might run now?

Might.

Then we would like you to drive it to the dealer to get it evaluated.

I’m not driving it anywhere, Ace.  I already told you people I’m crippled and can’t drive.  Now, if you want to send a tow truck to take it down there, wait, and bring it back to my driveway, that would be fine.

Sir, we’re trying to figure out the value of the vehicle, and we can’t do that without knowing what’s wrong with it.

Yes, I understand, but that’s your problem and not mine. No matter what’s wrong with it, and no matter how you value it, I can’t pay for it. So if you want it, come get it, and stop bothering me.

…which they eventually did, about two weeks after I failed to make the third payment in a row.  Good, that’s over and done with.  I didn’t like it, really, but it was a relief just having it decided. And, of course, I knew I’d be hearing from them again, which I did.

They sent me a very nice letter, telling me that I still owed them $7500 give or take, and I could send a check or do it online, as I had my payments, at my choice.

I see.

I threw the letter away.

Then came a phone call after the second letter went unanswered, where a very nice woman explained to me very carefully that I still owe this much money, and they would be happy to make some payment arrangement to suit my budget, all I had to do was tell them what that would be. We can work it out.

Well, no, actually we can’t work it out, lady.  I’m not giving you a fucking cent, not now or any other time.

She seemed to bristle at that, which just set off the explosion that I’d been brewing up with these people. I’m afraid I may have even raised my voice just a bit, something I don’t often do, when I explained to her that I had nearly begged to be able to pay for the van, never mind that it was badly broken and would cost me money to repair, it was my obligation, and I wanted to fulfill it…and now, after you’ve come and dragged it off, fixed it, sold it, now you’re coming to me to pay the balance on something I don’t have…that I begged you to let me keep…and we can work it out?

I have this right, don’t I? She allowed as how I did…

How about this…

How about I’ve done my due diligence, and in the wonderful state of California, by specific statute, none of my income…not one red cent, assuming cents were red and that I actually got any…NONE of it are you able to attach. $0.00. ZERO. So…how about this agreement? How about you people go fuck yourselves, how would the be, Ace?

Yes, I own them the money.
No, I will never pay them.
Yes, it reflects poorly on my credit rating, and I couldn’t care less.

I’m a hypocrite, apparently, but I’ll learn to live with it. 

Fuck ‘em.