So, the other day I received a phone call from a girl I went to school with.  A hot Asian chick who actually thought I was an alright guy.  We never dated or anything, but we got along really well.  I always had that “what if” thought when my mind would wander back to her as the years went by.

And here she was, calling me.  Completely out of the blue.

I know what you’re thinking, this has all the makings of a ridiculously romantic story.  The kind you normally only see on eHarmony ads with that psycho dude and his soon to be abused new bride.

Is this bitch eyeballing me again?

You would think that.  But you would be horribly wrong.  As much as anyone would love to receive that unexpected phone call from a crush from way back, it’s doubtful that anyone pines for the day when they receive that phone call and it opens with “hello, this is _______ calling from Bank of America.”

It’s true, times are tough.  I hate to break the image any of you may have of me as a high rolling, Bentley driving, internet comedy writer.  The fact is, the problems with the economy have hit me just like anyone else.  As a result, there is a slight possibility that I may have allowed a credit card bill or two to go unpaid.  To remedy the situation, in swooped an old friend to make me man up and meet my financial obligations, lest Bank of America be taken to their proverbial knees by missing out on that $30 minimum payment of mine they are owed.  Yes, you read that right.  The call I received from that hottie of days gone by…was a collections call.

Normally, I wouldn’t invest enough time in a bill collector to actually find out who they really are.  If I don’t have the cash, what the hell do we have to talk about?  But when I received a voicemail on my work phone from Bank of America, I found myself intrigued.  Not because they tracked down my work phone number, I know how it works, everyone reading this can probably track down my work phone number.  No, what intrigued me was the name the caller left…命名未公开 (name concealed to protect the innocent…and my credit).

As you can clearly see, that is not an average, everyday name that a kid who grew up in Illinois would encounter.  The fact that I happened to have a major league crush on a chick with that very name piqued my curiousity.  I decided to return the call.

When my call was answered, the voice on the other end sounded vaguely familiar.

命名未公开: “Thank you for calling Bank of America, this is 命名未公开, how can I help you?”

Me: “Yeah, my name is Adam Brown, I received a message from you, I’m just returning your call.”

命名未公开: Ok, give me one moment to look up your account.

Me: What did you say your name was?

命名未公开: 命名未公开

Me: Wow, I went to school with someone with that very same name.  How weird is that?  It’s not like it’s a common name.

命名未公开: Where I’m from it is.

At this point, whether I’m talking to the same chick I went to school with or not, I very much dislike the person I’m talking to now.  Where you’re from it is?  You sound like you’re from the goddamned midwestern United States, much like me.  And where I hail from, there just aren’t a bunch of chicks named 命名未公开 running the streets.  If you and your BOA brethren are expecting any sort of financial bailout from me, you may want to cut back on the sass.  Anyway…

Me: Yeah, where are you from?

命名未公开: Well, I’m originally from Thailand, but I grew up in Illinois.

Ok, so she’s not Asian, but you get the idea.  And yes, masking the name using simplified Chinese was a bad choice.  Cut me some slack.  Moving on…

Me: No shit?  I grew up in Illinois too!  What city?

命名未公开: Ummm, I don’t think I’m supposed to disclose that information to clients.

Me: Relax, you’re not getting a dime out of me.  I’m no client.  Did you grow up in Peoria?

命名未公开: Um, yes I did.  Is this the Adam that went to Central High School?

Me:  Yeah!  I thought that sounded like you, how have you been?

命名未公开: I’m good I guess, how are you?

We’ve reached a crossroads here.  Sure, I used to like this chick, but at the same time, she’s calling to collect money from me.  Money that I don’t want to give her.  She’s like a telemarketer, except it’s already written in stone that I will pay for what she’s selling, one way or another.

So what to do?  Do I keep things cordial, hoping that maybe the conversation will turn to how she always secretly thought that time the varsity running back threw my tighty whities out onto the gymnasium floor and I chased out after them wrapped in a barely fitting towel made me seem kind of brave and cute?

After a very brief bit of soul searching in which I realize that, no matter how awesome I may be, the fact that 命名未公开 is calling to collect on an unpaid debt excludes me from any future sexual consideration, I decide to be a douchebag.

Me: I’m good.  Not doing as well as you though, obviously.

Yes, I realize she’s calling me about a late credit card payment, so I’m not in much of a position to make passive agressive jokes.  But at the same time, by my math she is approximately 32 years old and makes a living calling people about late credit card payments.  That’s pretty fucking sad.  If Cracked would accept an article about the shittiest jobs you could possibly have at age 32, hers would make the list.

命名未公开: What is that supposed to mean?  You don’t know how I’m doing.

**Note to self: chicks are fantastic at picking up sarcasm.

Me: No, I just mean, you know, you’re calling ME about bills I haven’t paid.  Instead of the other way around.  It was more of a dig at me.

**No it wasn’t.

命名未公开: Oh, well, yeah, I’m doing good.  But, really, I have to keep this professional, so, why have you been late with your payments?

We’ve reached that moment.  That moment where I absolutely know this chance encounter is going to result in a net gain of zero sexual encounters.  Might as well make the most of it.

Me: Because I didn’t make them on time.  Remember that time we went to the library after school?  I totally paid your overdue book fees.  Can you deduct that from my balance?

命名未公开: No.

Me: But we’re friends.

命名未公开: (laughing) We WERE friends.

Me: Well, I don’t feel comfortable talking about my financial difficulties with strangers.

命名未公开: You know what I mea…..

Me: (hangs up phone)

I feel like I should add something at this point.  If the kids out there are anything like I was as a kid, then I know there are kids out there reading this.  And far be it from me to send a negative message to the kids.  Understand this, what you have just read is not cool.  Granted, the way I kind of backhand complimented the chick calling me about unpaid bills was kind of awesome.  If you can’t have fun with unwanted callers, you are not truly living.  But still, you want those calls to come from people selling you shit or offering rides to vote or something like that.  You don’t want random phone calls from people demanding that you pay them the money you owe them.  Let this be a lesson to you all, the kids with bad parents who are reading this.  No matter what your station in life, make sure your phone number is unlisted.