Rain Man
04-29-2010, 08:51 PM
I walk home tonight, and the wife is at a meeting so I'm the first one home. I walk up the steps, walk up the other steps, and check the mailbox.
Four items in the mail. Since it was cold, I stepped into the house before looking. I set down my backpack, petted the cat, and took off my hat and coat. The cat meowed, so I petted him again.
And then came the exciting part. Opening the mail. What did I get today? Was it a letter from British colonists in India? Something with a Pony Express stamp on it that had been lost for 120 years after the rider was killed by Indians? (Sorry, oldandslow.) Maybe a letter with one of those stamps with the upside down plane?
Envelope 1 was an ad for LensCrafters, addressed to me. I recycled it.
Envelope 2 was an ad for LensCrafters, addressed to my wife. I recycled it.
Envelope 3 was an audit report for the time share we have. I recycled it.
Envelope 4 looked up at me from the counter. It was a classic white #9, with a windowed address label in front and a return address that said, "Mortgage Service Center" and a presorted meter postage.
There was something about the envelope that indicated seriousness. Perhaps it was the businesslike font. Perhaps it was the New Jersey return address. But I knew it was different. Something important.
I set the envelope down and studied it. Good news? Bad news? Possibly a well-designed ad for LensCrafters? I slowly ripped open the back and peeked in.
It was from my mortgage company. Probably not good news. Mortgage companies typically don't write with good news.
I opened up the single typewritten page, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was my annual escrow report, summarizing the monies I paid last year to handle taxes and insurance. Routine documentation.
But wait. What's this? My escrow account was overfunded last year! They're lowering my payment by $40 a month! $40 a month! It's like God just came down and gave me a free pizza every two weeks. A person could not get better news from his mortgage company!
But wait!
No!
NO!
NNNOOOOO WAY!
At the bottom of the letter was a perforated section. And under that perforation was a check. A check to me. For $503. It's as if I had a secret, non-interest-paying checking account that I'd forgotten about, or a really poor long-lost uncle who remembered me in his will.
$503. Can you believe that? I think we paid less than that for Alaska. I can cash this baby and go make it rain at Chili's, or buy 80 percent of that Amtrak pass, or commission 50 caricatures of myself at Six Flags. I'm rich! RICH!
Four items in the mail. Since it was cold, I stepped into the house before looking. I set down my backpack, petted the cat, and took off my hat and coat. The cat meowed, so I petted him again.
And then came the exciting part. Opening the mail. What did I get today? Was it a letter from British colonists in India? Something with a Pony Express stamp on it that had been lost for 120 years after the rider was killed by Indians? (Sorry, oldandslow.) Maybe a letter with one of those stamps with the upside down plane?
Envelope 1 was an ad for LensCrafters, addressed to me. I recycled it.
Envelope 2 was an ad for LensCrafters, addressed to my wife. I recycled it.
Envelope 3 was an audit report for the time share we have. I recycled it.
Envelope 4 looked up at me from the counter. It was a classic white #9, with a windowed address label in front and a return address that said, "Mortgage Service Center" and a presorted meter postage.
There was something about the envelope that indicated seriousness. Perhaps it was the businesslike font. Perhaps it was the New Jersey return address. But I knew it was different. Something important.
I set the envelope down and studied it. Good news? Bad news? Possibly a well-designed ad for LensCrafters? I slowly ripped open the back and peeked in.
It was from my mortgage company. Probably not good news. Mortgage companies typically don't write with good news.
I opened up the single typewritten page, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was my annual escrow report, summarizing the monies I paid last year to handle taxes and insurance. Routine documentation.
But wait. What's this? My escrow account was overfunded last year! They're lowering my payment by $40 a month! $40 a month! It's like God just came down and gave me a free pizza every two weeks. A person could not get better news from his mortgage company!
But wait!
No!
NO!
NNNOOOOO WAY!
At the bottom of the letter was a perforated section. And under that perforation was a check. A check to me. For $503. It's as if I had a secret, non-interest-paying checking account that I'd forgotten about, or a really poor long-lost uncle who remembered me in his will.
$503. Can you believe that? I think we paid less than that for Alaska. I can cash this baby and go make it rain at Chili's, or buy 80 percent of that Amtrak pass, or commission 50 caricatures of myself at Six Flags. I'm rich! RICH!