"I'm afraid that's right ma'am," the mechanic was saying on my phone. "Seven hundred and forty eight dollars. And 57 cents."
Well, shit! That was about 700 more dollars than I had in my checking account. And, I'm a 'Miss' goddammit, not a 'Ma'am'!
"Please!" I begged. "Are you sure? Isn't there something else that can be done, some cheaper part?"
After begging for a few more minutes, he knocked the price down to an even $700. That was nice, but it really didn't help me much at all. My asshole landlord just jacked up my rent this month. My two credit cards were nearly maxed out; I think I had about 250 left on those, combined.
I don't want to cry, I thought. Not here at work! Just don't cry. Maintain, deep breath.
But it didn't do any good. I was tired, my car was dead, and I was out of money. I cried. Right there in my cubicle. I mean, not big loud girlie cries. But my shoulders jumped as I tried to keep it in, tears rolled down my face and onto my blouse before I could grab a Kleenex. To make matters worse, I just knew my face was getting all blotchy, of course.
At least it was late in the day and Joanne and Tracy had gone home. I tried to think of alternatives. Mom, no. I was already into her for $1,500 and she denied my last borrowing attempt. My sister Kate, no. I wouldn't borrow money from that bitch except to buy a gun to shoot her with.
Jesus, I thought, what can I do? I know those 1-800-Cash things are a huge rip-off, but I didn't seem to have much of a choice.
Just then, Mark came in. "Patience, I know it's last minute but can you make a few changes to these orders? Barney didn't like the way they were set up... oh, hey, are you crying? Did I... was it me? Is it these changes?"
"Sorry Mark," I began explaining. "It's not you. (Sniff) I just got some bad news on my car."
"The Beemer? I told you not to buy that junker from Evans! Oh, sorry, not what you want to hear right now. Can I, um, do anything?"
"I know, I know, you told me not to buy that hunk of junk," I whined in between sobs. "You're right. I should have listened to you. (Sniff) You're always so nice to me! Why are you already married?"
Oh shit I couldn't believe I just said that! Like he would really be interested in me? I mean, nobody else been has for the last two years, why would he? And he's married! What the fuck am I even thinking about!
Mark sighed and looked at me. "Are you short? How much?"
"The bill is about $700. I'm short like, I don't know, 500 or so." I was so ashamed. "But, Mark, I'm not asking you for the money! This isn't your problem--"
"Aww just hush up, kiddo." Mark always called me Kiddo. He was like, maybe 20 years older than me, I guess he had the right. "I'm gonna go talk to that shmuck Evans for a few minutes. Hey, you probably need a ride to the dealer?" I nodded. "Okay, get these changes done for me, I'll be back in 15 and we'll go get your car. Don't worry about a thing."
I sniffled and snuffled my way through the order changes, trying not to think about anything else but that was impossible. But I didn't want to mess up Mark's orders, either. I got 'em done, correctly.
But I just didn't know what the hell I was going to do. As much as I needed the money, I didn't want to borrow it because it would be so hard to pay it back. $500 would take me five months of starving myself! And I already had credit cards, auto loan, Mom loan, rent, christ. But then, I thought that starving myself might not be a bad idea. Ever since the divorce, I'd been steadily gaining weight. I just cracked the 180 barrier last week.
