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A monologue from the play by Lisa Kron
Lars (gay guy in his 40s)
Oh god. Okay. Uh . . . I get so flustered! Okay, so . . . I’m Lars . . . Okay . . . The incident that brought me here was with a credit card company.
Wow, I can’t believe this is always so hard. My um . . . my boyfriend (Deep sigh) is not very good with money, to say the least.
He had some debt, and an offer came in the mail. A credit card that was offering a cash advance at 4% interest.
“That’s a good rate,” Alex said. He said, “Honey, you’re always telling me I’m paying too much interest.” And it’s true. I was.
I was always telling him that. I said, “Alex, I just don’t trust these mail offers,” and he said, “Why are you always undermining me?”
And I guess, I don’t know, I guess I was afraid he was right, because I said, “Okay, Alex, I’ll check it out.”
And I called the company and I was on the phone with a representative for at least 45 minutes going over every line of fine print and it seemed like Alex was right,
it was a good deal, and as the call was ending, just to confirm, I said, “Just to confirm, we are talking about a 4% interest rate.”
And the man said, he said, “Yes, sir, you’re all set at 32%.” And he hung up the phone. Well, according to the Supreme Court’s 1978 decision, Marquette vs. Omaha Services, it is legal.
I called him right back and said cancel, cancel, cancel, cancel. And he said, “Don’t worry. The loan can’t go through until you sign the papers so don’t sign them and you’ll be fine.”
There were no papers. They just deposited the money into our account. I called them and said, “We didn’t agree to the terms.”
They said we did. (Quietly, ashamed.) Not only is my credit rating destroyed. But every day I have to come home to that . . . Bowflex machine.
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