I just filed bankruptcy this summer. Not that I really wanted to, but working at Wal-Mart and going to school full-time combined with severe back problems (much better now, yoga is a wonderful thing) made it impossible to pay my bills. I figure, my credit is wrecked for life…
My mom decided it would be a good thing to apply for a low limit credit card. Of course, she didn’t tell me she was doing it, and I really didn’t want to get back on the credit-go-round, so I was livid when it arrived in the mail… addressed to Massage by the Mango, with her name as a second user. I ranted, I raved. I thought she was nutz.
Yesterday, she went to a local mini-mall to buy some oxygenated water thingy that she swears does wonders for her skin, but the mall was gone. Well, actually, it was closed for remodelling, which is sort of like gone, because the stores are all not selling stuff for the time being. So, she did an internet search for the product, and found it available from a local distributor. She ordered it. Using the business card that I was mad at her for getting.
About forty-five minutes ago, the phone rang. It was the guy she ordered the oxygnenated water thingy from. He wanted to make an appointment for a massage for his wife, who has been looking for a good masseuse for two years. I didn’t tell him that we don’t like the term masseuse anymore because it calls to mind big-bosomed babes who give happy endings. I did, however, schedule an appointment for Friday afternoon, named my price, and did the happy dance.
Yep, I got an appointment for a massage because my mom used the business credit card that I was mad at her for getting.
dances around some more