Blake was pretty sure that he had not
heard the last of the matter.
The morning started pretty normally for
a Sunday. Financial disaster had wormed its way into Blake's consciousness.
There was no money left and nowhere to turn. The new client's check had been
stopped by the bank. Held for release under mysterious circumstances. The money
was to solve problems and create breathing room. It was to be the miracle "Hail
Mary" that Blake was counting on. But the bank he had banked with had
invested $11 Billion dollars on new technology after paying Uncle Sam $13
Billion dollars for its part in the subprime bubble burst that cost 100 million
Americans their homes and jobs while hurtling the U.S. Economy into a recession
that heaped misery on the middle class including Blake who was still trying to
"Mr. Schnellenberg, we provide our
customers with various tools to avoid these possible occurrences...you have an
app on your phone that you could have used to see that you had a deficient
balance in the account."
"Usually, I get a low balance alert, Mr.
Palumbo...I never got it and then all of a sudden, over the course of 24 hours,
I had used the card on minor purchases...somehow, I got charged $500 in
overdraft fees...15 $35 fees in a row...first time this has ever
" Mr. Schnellenberg , you could have
"Mr. Palumbo, I had absolutely no idea
that the account was overdrawn and would accrue 15 overdraft fees almost
instantaneously in a row amounting to $500...I've been a loyal customer
with this bank for over 25 years..."
" Mr. Schnellenberg , this is not the
first time you have been charged for insufficient funds."
" Mr. Palumbo, I'm asking for help
here...this seems to be almost a predatory scheme by a Trillion dollar company
to generate money on a technical oversight..."
" Mr. Schnellenberg , I've been with the
bank for 20 years and as the branch manager I reviewed your record which
is not a good one...one more misstep or baseless accusation and I will
tell you to find another bank."
" Mr. Palumbo, we don't know each
other--first time I've seen you in this branch that I have been coming to for a
quarter-century and I'm sure this is just a case of two people getting off on
the wrong foot...but I will tell you that my family has been banking here for
probably fifty years and that typically If I am threatened in such a manner I
handle a miscommunication like this by going directly to that person's
Back and forth it went...both the banker
and Schnellenberg were red-faced, intense and had hands that were
Ultimately an uneasy compromise was
reached and half the charges were erased...still the $250 burned and stung and
Blake was nowhere closer to getting the bank to release the $5000 check he had
been waiting on. That money would buy breathing room. It was salvation and it
seemed as though fate was conspiring against Blake and his meeting with the
bank went as bad as possible. This was Friday and it was white knuckle
The nitty had hit the gritty. So, of
course, what better time than for Mitzie Kerfuffle to be blowing up Blake's
iPhone over the weekend with new nonsense about her never-ending feud with
Sharkpool Social Media director Montgomery Morgenstern.
TEXT: [ Blake...this little prick did it
again...I gave him a feature article I wrote on the Japanese Yen and how it
reminds me of the philosophy of Ying & Yang in that it sounds similar and
it's all about karmic retribution and that because of Pearl Harbor and
the evil of that attack that the Yen has hit a monthly low which I read in the
Wall Street Journey...and this little fugazi mother-fucker totally
ignored my article. ]
TEXT: [ Mitzie, it's the Wall Street
Journal, not Journey and I have too much other stuff going on right now to get
in the middle of more Montgomery drama...btw you do know that you need to run
these story ideas through me and Ethel, right? We've discussed Sharkpool
protocol a couple of times now]
TEXT: [ Blake with all due respect,
everybody knows it's the Wall Street Journey and that little fucker Montgomery
is lucky I didn't call the police when he tried to stick his weasely little
worm up my behind...who does that? Total pervs do that ...that's who...If my
family knew he tried to pump his tiny salami up my poop-chute he would have
found his twerpy little body twisted like a pretzel on the streets of
TEXT: [ Mitzie, Google it. Wall Street
Journal. I gotta go.]
TEXT: [I'm fed up with this shit Blake.
I'm going straight to Bob about what I perceive as a lack of
TEXT: [Knock yourself out, Mitzie. I'm
out of pocket for the remainder of the day which is Sunday, by the way...good
TEXT: [ I want Montgomery shit-canned
and I want Bob to pay me what he promised. I charged a full wardrobe of
reporter's outfits and shoes on my one credit card and I need to be
TEXT: [ Did Mr. Beauregarde authorize
TEXT: [ As a matter of fact, I saw Bob
last night at a charity event my friend Peregrine Marsatz III invited me
to. Bob was there with a new floozie, drunk as hell and making out in
front of everybody...he saw me on the dance floor and asked me why I
looked so familiar...I told him I was his lead financial reporter and he
laughed and said if that was the case I should dress like a lead reporter ...I
was so pissed off I went home humiliated and maxed out my credit card on a
high-priced fashion site. $1500. He needs to pay me and cover that expense or I
am hiring a lawyer and suing him for mental cruelty.
TEXT: [ Oy...I don't know Mitzie...I
wasn't there...but it doesn't seem like he authorized you to make a $1500
purchase. Can you return the clothes?]
TEXT: [ Blake I need you to have my back
TEXT: [ If Mr. Beauregarde said that to
you on the dance floor I agree that on the surface that wasn't nice--but maybe
he was just giving you advice?]
TEXT: [Blake why are you always taking
sides against me? Do you realize that Montgomery tried to stick his tiny pencil
up my Hershey highway? Gross! Except for you and Ethel I am done with
this fucking shit show BS financial paper. I'm going to go find a job at the
Journey. I bet they pay their reporters a hell of a lot more than
TEXT: [OK- I gotta go...talk later in
the week. Wall Street Journal, not Journey. Google it]
Blake plugged his phone into the wall
charger then went to the basement to swap out the laundry. On his return, he
surveyed the empty fridge and decided to make some iced tea with a teabag and
water and ice. Filling. He knew without looking there would be a message on his
TEXT: [Call me back. Bob
(On phone) "Hello Mr. Beauregarde, I got
your text is everything ok, sir."
"No Blake, I just got a call from a
Mitzie Kerfuffle, who I presume is that waitress we offered an internship to,
claiming that I owed her 1500 dollars. Do you know anything about this
"Yes, sir...she texted me earlier today
claiming you authorized her to dress like a reporter when you saw each other at
a charity event Mr. Beauregarde."
"Now listen here Blake, I've had enough
of this crazy waitress. She's like a bad penny. Fire her today or don't report
to work tomorrow. Do you understand?
The publisher hung up.
TEXT: [ Hey Blake, just got off the
phone with my cousin's daughter's friend's attorney and she says given the
#metoo revolution going on that I have a good shot to sue Sharkpool for sex
discrimination and harassment... that shit-stain Montgomery is going down down
down and so is Bob Beauregarde if he doesn't reimburse me $2500 and
apologize and promote me to Senior Financial Editor.]
TEXT:[Mitzie... You're fired... I'm
sorry but you were warned multiple times not to harass Mr. Beauregarde. He
called me just now and told me to fire you because of your phone-call
TEXT: [That mother-fucking prick. Poison
my eyes! Madone! You're kidding right Blakie? You're pulling a gag on me
right because I'm always such a pain in the ass, right. I'm sorry Blake
sometimes I have too much wine cause I'm stressed about boo boo kitty and that
piece of shit Montgomery always trying to fuck me in the ass. You're kidding
Blakie, right? Please tell me you're kidding. I told everyone from the
neighborhood, I'm a reporter. I can't go back to waitressing...I promised
myself that I was better than that...please Blake...you're kidding
(Calling her on phone)
(Sobbing) "Blake please don't fire me
this job is all I have..."
"I'm sorry Mitzie ...Maybe you could
call Mr. Beauregarde and..."
"Fuck that Blake...my fucking lawyer is
going call Bob and handle this matter..."
"Ok Mitzie, good luck."
Blake put the phone down and poured
himself an iced tea. It was another shit-show of a Sunday and the one thing he
knew as well as he knew anything was that...
...his iPhone was going to ping with a
new message from Mitzie.