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March 12, 2012
Debt has a voice, and it sighs a lot.

Today, Greg Wayne (from a collection agency) called.  Why do they do that fake personalized shit?  I find his voice intolerable.  It makes me want to vomit and feel depressed most days, but today it just made me angry.  He called as I was pulling into a gas station.  It made it all extra stressful.  The whole day had already worn me out.

Condecendedouche: “It’s Greg Wayne.  Collecting for Radiology of Indianapolis?”

Me in a super-shitty tone : “Yeah, I know.”

Darth Vader of concern-trolling disappointed sighing: “We still haven’t received -“

Me, now breathing fire: “Because I didn’t send it yet.  You are the last item on my list.”

Greg, still a condecendedouche (you just can’t wash that off): “Well when will you send the check?”

Me, annoyed and tired, flipping out about how dirty the windshield was: “Later.  Maybe today, maybe not.  Bye.”

Then I hung up and blocked that number.  There are laws about how much they can call you, dudes and dudettes.  I figure there’s a chance that would increase the amount of his soul-crushing voice I have to hear.  I think they count on that.

Anyone else get totally bonkers in their stomachs, heads, or whatever when collectors call?

  1. takethesepills said: I didn’t have insurance when I got in the accident. I just signed up and because of a pre-existing, nothing is covered for six months. The thousands be piling up! I had a moment where I had to pick between school and bills and I picked school. Yes.
  2. yourcrimeswrittenallovermybody posted this
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