Your stepson is absolutely over his head in debts that range from a few dollars to her dry cleaners to a storage house to child support to alimony to his cleaning lady to… well, you name it, he owes 'em. He’s a chronic gambler and drug addict who’s proven that he cannot be trusted with money. He owes millions between his mortgages and car loans, is in foreclosure on three houses (all mortgaged to the hilt), has almost no unencumbered assets, has three ex-wives and five kids he owes money too, etc.
You’re rich and in a position to help him- not without feeling a pinch yourself, but you do it. You give him $25000 up front and co-sign a loan with him for $150,000 more. Stupidly you pretty much let him have the credit line without a lot of preconditions, so your son pays $165 to his personal trainer for his last two sessions- neither of which he actually went to- because that’s what he’d contracted with him for, and meanwhile his last two wives are filing for food stamps and his cleaning lady has been evicted for non-payment of her rent since she hasn’t gotten her money.
Now to me the $165 paid to a personal trainer in this analogy isn’t half as sickening as the fact that $165 is to the $175,000 amount of your bailout of your son what $165 million is to the $175 billion promised to AIG. Now if this were a real analogy, what I would have told my kid, since I’m not at all obligated to help an adult son who’s pissed away a fortune, is this:
Okay Sonny, first thing is you’re not getting a dime from me. Your creditors are- the checks will pass from my hand to theirs.
The second thing is, this is my money but these aren’t my debts, so I’ll pay who I like how much I like and I’m not under any legal responsibility to do that.
The third thing is, every penny I pay is a penny you owe me.
—Okay, your beach house is worth $900,000 you owe $1.0 million on it… looks to me like your banker just lost $100K but 90% of a debt’s better than most people are getting from you.
—Your pied-a-terre in the city is worth $1 million and you owe $1 million. Bye bye pied a terre.
—Your primary residence is worth $800,000, you have a $750,000 mortgage, and you’re $30,000 behind in the payments. Here’s the $30,000 in back payments and I’ll take over the house payment in exchange for which the house is now in my name. You live there until such time as it pleases me that you don’t. If you’re ever back on your feet again I’ll sell it back to you for 100 cents on the dollar, or if you’re not I’ll keep it.
—Nice Jaguar. It’s worth $70,000 and you owe $80,000. Hmmm. Bye bye Jaguar- Mr. Jaguar dealer, hopefully you’ve learned a lesson- btw I’ll give you $40,000 bid for it if it goes up for sale.
Okay, now for the money you owe that isn’t secured- Give me the bills for the amount you owe in child support— you owe $20,000 in child support? Okay, I’m sending your ex-wives cashier’s checks for $12,500. That’s not the full amount, but it’s a helluva lot better than nothing and you still owe them the rest.
—You owe how much in alimony? $16,000? I’ll send them checks for $4,000- when you recover you can pay them the rest, til then you owe them.
—You owe Guadalupe $3,250 for back services? And she’s still working for you? I’m going to give Guadalupe a check for $3,250.
—You owe your personal trainer $165 for two sessions you didn’t even attend?
Well then… I don’t give a damn how, if, or when he gets paid. This is my money, not yours, and I’ll decide who gets it and he is wwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy down the list.
Oh he’s threatening to sue? Okay…
Now of course if the personal trainer wants to sue you then he certainly can and he might even win, but I wager that you and me and the personal trainer and Jayne Mansfield and the Baby Jesus and the Vampire Lestat and the Trix Rabbit will all be holding hands singing Ring Around the Rosies on the 9th largest moon of Jupiter before he collects it since you ain’t got it and there’s a wwhhhhhhhooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooolllle long line of people with bigger and more pressing claims in front of him.
And of course you can say to me, ‘Pop, I want to pay off my trainer, he’s my friend, and I don’t want you telling me what to do because I’m 40 years old’, to which I say, I respect your determination. Them’s my terms, take 'em or leave 'em, and you need to start picking up aluminum cans and selling plasma because I’m calling the shots here and you’re not just getting a shitload of money dropped in your lap with me not even asking for receipts. I’m looking over your accounts and I’m deciding who gets paid with MY money and your trainer can go screw himself or you can find the $165 some other way.