One night in Bangkok
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Carmen returns to financial freedom
by Carmen Jones
Aug 16, 2007
Last week I wound up in an unexpected conundrum that was completely fucked up, but I pulled through like a champ.
It all started Monday with some starry eyes that I had for a dress I found online. I bought it and went along on my merry way looking forward to the express arrival of my package.
The next morning I went to my usual Tully’s, and my debit card was declined, which led to a huge question mark in my head because there was plenty of money in that account.
I logged on to review the status of my checking account, and it was negative.
For a split second, I questioned my activities over the weekend, but then when I flipped to the screen that detailed the charges, one thing became abundantly clear.
I was yet another victim of fraud.
Some fuckwad in Bangkok managed to get my account information, likely through the online transaction, and managed to have $2,000 in damaging fun.
He completely wiped me out.
It was a particular bummer to discover this on the same day that I would go grocery shopping and fill my car tank, which had only a sliver of gas.
However, you all know that I refuse to let this kind of stuff get the best of me.
Rather than being a pouty or pissy face, I decided to flip some magic and look at the matter a different way:
I turned all of last week into an urban survival test to see how well I’d do with very little dough, no car and no food for one week.
Here are the things that you’ll be most grateful for if you ever become a victim of fraud:
- The extra travel-sized toothpaste that you didn’t use on your last vacation.
- The last two scoops of laundry detergent for your two loads.
- The $20 that Mike Weinman loaned me.
- The employer who gives you a free Pierce Transit bus pass.
- Most importantly: Friends that I’m SO grateful for!
Instead of sticking to a Jack in the Box diet, I pulled off the down-and-out life in complete and utter style, thanks to Natasha’s connections and hookups.
- Jason Bailey, the general manager of Matador, set me up with those fajitas that I adore.
- Corey and Carol at the Pacific Grill covered my happy hour meat candy and cheeseburger sliders.
- Gina Breukelman gave me a gift certificate to El Gaucho.
- The Husky bought me my favorite black bean burger from Doyle’s Public House.
- Kake made me an incredible sack lunch with shrimp and rice, beans and broccoli, brownies, trail mix, cheese, a fruit snack, candy and caramel corn — SWEET!
- Jon Tartaglia of Cans let me start a tab so I could enjoy two refreshing Busch Lights and a shot of Fireball whiskey. Carter, Donnie and Natasha were right, Fireball really does change your life.
- And K to the K bought me several drinks Wednesday that I so desperately needed.
Thanks to all of the aforementioned amazing people, and the offer of kind words and support from so many others, I pulled through this crap with shining colors until I reached what I’m calling Financial Freedom Friday.
Friday was my payday, and you have NO idea what an overwhelming relief it was to go to the bank, start a new account, get reimbursed for the fraudulent charges and have cash in my hot little hand.
On Saturday, who would’ve thought that a girl who was so down and out could dust herself off so quickly, throw on a fantastic cocktail dress, replete with a tiara, and return to the mainstream just in time for the Sanford and Son prom.
That prom was the perfect end to the devastation that tried to creep into my world.
I’m now googly-eyed for the band Girl Trouble, and even after my ears finally stopped ringing on Monday, I’d still be willing to go completely deaf if it meant I’d get to listen to the Fucking Eagles again tonight.
So dear fraud fuckwad: You may have gotten my money but you’ll never capture my spirit, heart or my drive to thrive.
