Just found out my credit score is better than my wife’s, which basically translates to, “don’t lend money to my deadbeat wife”.
And you people are always sticking up for her.
You’re all marks, she’ll con you.
The chickens have come home to roost. Read on …
Basically it’s only like a 9 point difference because neither of us has made a move, credit wise, without the other’s involvement in a billion years.
So, why the difference you ask? American Eagle, a 10% discount on all purchases made with a store credit card I answer.
You see earlier this year, when we went to the states and bought a crap-ton of clothes, because well it’s ‘Merica. Someone, not this someone but the other someone in this fascinating and tawdry tale, fell for the ‘if you open an American Eagle Credit Card you can save 20% on all your purchases.”
So I’m in my boxers right now, wearing a stained wife-beater t-shirt swilling beer preaching to Dagmar about the brilliance of investing in the future credit swaps of ‘who cares because I have a better credit score than you do so I’m smarter’.
Okay that’s not really happening because she’d punch me for doing it. To clarify she’d punch me in the wiener. There may be few life lessons I have learned throughout the years but not getting punched in the junk is one of the few I have taken to heart.
Anyway like most of America we bought a house, at the absolute top of the market. You remember the era. It was when real estate would “never go down in value, and we could all keep flipping houses until we were Scrooge McDuck level rich, swimming in pools of money.”
It was literally right before you and I started to cry when we opened our 401K statements circa 2007 or so.
Flash forward to today and home loan rates are no longer in the “who the fuck cares” percentile and she and I thought it might be time to get one of those sweet, sweet low-rate refinance loans. We were pretty sure that a house’s interest rate shouldn’t be so close to the credit card that the two are on first a name basis.
And we were right.
This is the odd part, or maybe not considering our credit scores (suck it Ms. Lower than Mine Credit Score), the bank really just offered to send me 12 strippers and to send Dagmar a live-in pastry chef for one year. Okay not really but they were like (imagine this said with a sexy voice), “We promise to service your loan Mr. Oliver.”
Anyway, tons of personal information later Ms. Sexy Voice** does credit checks and comes back with the something akin to the following, “you’re awesome Todd and I want to have crazy sex with you but there seems to be a freeze on your wife’s credit. Can you call Equifax, Transunion and Experian and ask them WTF is the issue? Then we can have the hot sex.”
Okay I paraphrased that last paragraph up there but point is there was an issue with her credit report. To remedy this I called all three, a painful experience from Europe I assure you.
And here they are in order of best to worst.
Transunion makes checking your credit score so easy you’ll call them back tomorrow to do it again.
Literally I thought I was calling a friend.
Thansunion: “Dude, I’m SO glad you called! I just noticed on your CC that you signed up for bigbreastedamateurhousewifes.com. That site is the tits dude!”
Me: What? That’s on my credit report? Jesus Christ get it off of there!
TU: Relax man no one else can see it, I LOVE that site. Check out Ms. Mulberry lane dude she’s insane.
Me: Okay, Okay I will shut up. Is our credit okay?
TU: It’s the tits dude …. Look man why don’t you call more often man we’re such good buddies!
Okay maybe they were a little too friendly.
Experian is run by Germans. I’m sure of it.
Experian representative: “Give me zee numbers, (beep/boop/beep/boop), robot says your credit is okay. Press 1 to continue, press two to destroy zee world.
I hit two and was put on hold.
Equifax stabs you in the eye and then, and here is the fun part, makes you give
them money because stabbing you in the eye costs money.
Literally it’s crazy. I was transferred to India where the following took place:
“Oh I see you are liking the boobs of wives that are your neighbors but not your wife sir. This will be costing you twenty five American dollars sir.”
Anyway thought this amazing process, and a $25 dollars a month poorer charge, I’ve come to find out the bank put in the wife’s wrong SSN on the credit check. But still at the end of the day it was worth the million dollar phone bill.
Finally I do have to point out that we have credit scores that are in the 800′s, pretty bad-ass. Or at least it seems that way until I remember that I’d have a credit score of you have to be kidding were it not for Dagmar. As she correctly reminded me I didn’t even have a credit card (I had a bitchin’ stereo though) when she met me let alone a credit score. Thanks … lady with the lower score than I.
* Screw you Fran and others. “Funner” is the word to use in this situation.
** It was really only a sexy voice in my head, but it was funner that way.