Published on 9/4/08
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THE FIX: CREDIT COUNSELING SERVICE
I screwed up. I admit it. I was 18 and the world was a mysterious place full of sunny opportunity. Then along came a credit card company that offered me money I didn’t have and I thought, This seems on the up-and-up. Worse comes to worst, I’ll pay it off after I graduate and my philosophy major has landed me an emotionally fulfilling and lucrative job.
Now, a decade later, the only philosophizing I find myself doing is with a debt counselor, who’s chatting with me on the phone about mistakes I made during a time so long ago, Cuba Gooding Jr. still had Oscar buzz. I got the card and over the course of a few years, put two moves, including one across the country, on it, and have been fighting to get out from under the interest rates ever since.
“First of all, you were probably tempted by another offer of a credit card with no interest and no payments,” says Cheryl Foster, a debt counselor for Chestnut Credit Counseling Services (1003 Martin Luther King Jr Dr, Bloomington, 888-838-5202, chestnut.org/credit/). “But that’s a bad idea. You’d transfer the balance over there, and suddenly the interest is much higher than you think, and you start having to make even larger payments.”
I concede that I’ve considered that route before, but after being burned once, I’m not too interested in mixing it up again with credit cards, so I’m already safe from that trap.
“The first thing you should do is call MasterCard and ask them if they have an in-house program where they can give you a lower payment, lower interest” she says. “Some of them are willing to do that.”
Luckily, I hitched aboard one of those charity trains a couple years ago, but it’s nice to hear a debt pro saying that I’m not screwing up anymore. But for people who haven’t: Call Foster. Her program is a nonprofit, affiliated with the National Foundation for Credit Counseling. She sits down with clients and asks their creditors for a lower interest rate. She’ll also go over the client’s income and budget.
“I want you to be able to pay for everything,” she says. “I want you to be able to buy a book of stamps, kitty litter, groceries. We do a very in-depth budget, and leave you just enough to make sure you’re comfortable.”
I’ve already set up a monthly payment schedule with my master, the credit card company, but Foster was adamant that any budgetary plan needs to be strict. “I want to know everything you spent,” she says. “If you spent $1,000 on vacation last year, let’s cut $400 off that vacation next year. Instead of going to Colorado, go to Blue Island.”
A crueler fate I couldn’t imagine, but Foster insists it’s essential to the process. “I don’t want to take anything away,” she says, “I just want to shave it down, and leave money for all of the important things.”
I’d often heard that when you’re in debt, putting money into savings is a bad idea. Why save money when it could be going instead into digging you out of the pit you’re in? “We all need something for a rainy day,” Foster says. “I always tell my clients to make yourself a creditor, pay some money to yourself.”
But what about a 401k at work, is that something I should be doing?
“If you’re young and seriously in debt, my personal feeling would be to get yourself out of debt,” she says. “But since you can make your minimum payments, and you can afford it, you should do it.”
I hit Foster with the bottom line: At some point in the near future, I’d like to stop renting and buy a place. But, because of my youthful indiscretions, my credit score is lower than I—or a bank—would like.
“The more you set aside for a down payment, the better you’re going to look,” she says. “But you need to prove you’re worthy. Show them you’ve taken two years and made all of the payments on time, so your score is improving. I’m sure they’re going to work with you.”
So that’s the long slog to repairing my good name. Foster’s advice is helpful, though not particularly illuminating, since I’ve spent a fair amount of time researching the subject. But still, it’s good to know there’s hope for a wayward philosophy major, yet.— Jonathan Messinger
TOTAL COST
$25
HABIT-KILLING POWER
THE FIX: FREEZE CREDIT CARDS
Since I’m generally at or near my credit ceilings on all four of my charge cards, they were already, for all intents, frozen. But to keep me from making any (more) purchases I’d regret, I decided to literally freeze my cards: I put them in a bowl of water in the freezer, making them only accessible if I have an emergency (and a blowtorch). For the next two weeks, I can only spend the $340 in cash—an amount I pick based on a two-week average for what I spend on dining out, my Achilles’ heel—that I take out of my savings account, and that goes for all my purchases, from food to toilet paper. Once I’m out of cash, no more spending. Drastic? Sure, but it’s also pretty damn effective.
There’s something about walking around with $340 in your pocket that makes you feel like you just have to spend it. That’s probably how I find myself at Borders looking at the movies on the first day of my mission. And I find a beautiful two-disc set of The Devil Rides Out and Rasputin: The Mad Monk. You can’t go wrong with the combination of Christopher Lee and Hammer Films, especially for $21.79.
Naturally, once I get home, I just have to order pizza to watch the movies (you see how I got into this financial fiasco?), so after a quick call to my favorite pizza joint, I’m enjoying a large thin-crust sausage pizza for $21.35 (tip included). That’s washed down with bombers of craft beer I purchased at Lush Wine & Spirits in University Village for $42.33. This is a savings, at least, over going out drinking—something I realize I can’t do without breaking the proverbial bank.
The next day, I have to get some food to absorb all that beer still grumbling in my belly. Ignoring the voice in my head that says, “Buy groceries, dumbass, it’s cheaper!,” I order Chinese takeout—cashew chicken and two egg rolls. The good news is I had the willpower to get the small order of chicken. The bad news? It still cost me $8.18. Eating out constantly is what got me into this financial mess in the first place, yet I finally find time to buy groceries halfway into the experiment. But because I have $242.28 left, I resort to drastic measures: Good-bye, Dominick’s; hello, Certi-Saver! Want to know the biggest racket in a supermarket? It’s the markup on boneless, skinless chicken cuts. So I buy bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts instead and debone them myself at home, which saves $15. Also, two words every bachelor lives by: lunch meat. I spend $34.30 on sandwich slices. At a local produce market I buy another $25.74 in fruit and vegetables, and $7.62 for a 12-pack of toilet paper. Who knew I could get through the week on so little money?— Chuck Sudo
TOTAL COST
$0. After two weeks, I still had $174.62 left in my budget, which I promptly used to pay down my (now unfrozen but still unused two weeks later) credit cards.
HABIT-KILLING POWER