Take My Money, Please!

I don't mind asserting that I'm old school on many things; in fact, I revel in it. Still, it can be annoying. Quiet Ron.

Although I pay most things online I do write a couple checks a month. And because I watch my banking online I don't really pay attention to check numbers anymore, nor do I keep a check register. When I write a check, I do my dead level best to keep in mind that a check for such-and-such is out there, and to allow for it when looking in on my account.

Right now there's one check from November which has still not cleared, and it's driving me insane. Again, quiet Ron.

I contacted the people two weeks ago and they assure me they have it and will be cashing it. I have no fear of anything bad happening as they are, I am certain, reputable. But doggone it, they as yet haven't actually put it in their bank.

It's little enough that it won't cause an overdraft unless I badly lose track of things. Yet it's driving me crazy waiting. Will you please, please take my money? is not something I ever thought I'd hear myself say, to anyone under any circumstances. But I will feel much better when the check clears. 

Post Dated Cloyce

We have had a lot of interesting individuals come through our Shop door over the years. Some, you had trouble getting money out of them. Not all of those guys were out to con you, though.

One fella in particular, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, has been on open account for better than forty years now. He's slow to pay but he always, eventually, pays. He's a genuinely good guy too. I think he's just undisciplined, kinda the way a kid is undisciplined. The kid means well yet doesn't quite understand how things should work.

A habit of Cloyce's has been to bring a check to pay his bill but then post date it. "Can you hold this for a week, Bill?" he would ask me Pops on presentation of a scrap of at that point worthless paper. And Dad would hold it, knowing that it would be good sometime within the next three weeks.

He's done that to me too. I deal with it because I know Cloyce means well, and also because I genuinely like him. As I say, it's not unfair to say he's almost confusedly childlike in his approach to life. There's a part of me which finds that quaint, or even endearing. I mean that.

Still, getting paid is why we work. Back in September Cloyce came in and gave me a post dated check, asking me to hold it for a few days. I said yes but added, "You know, Cloyce, paying me today with a check I can't cash today isn't really paying me today." Cloyce nodded, and I could almost see that light bulb above his head trying to brighten beyond dim.

Cloyce stopped by the old barn last week to pay his current bill. He wrote out a check. "Look, Marty, I dated it today," he showed me.

"Great, Cloyce, thanks," I replied.

He then asked, "Can you hold it until Tuesday?"

Cue the sad trombone. Yes, I can hold it until then. I actually wonder whether that's his way of making himself pay me, to know in his own mind that a check is out there that he has to, some day, honor. Whatever the reason, I'll surely have my money later next week.

Marty's Two Cents

I have literally never, ever had someone give me their two cents worth. It never happened to me. Until yesterday.

In my snail mail was an envelope from the Detroit Medical Center which, from the outside, sure looked like a check. Curious as to what it could be about, I of course opened it, to discover that it was indeed a check made out to me for two cents.

There's no explanation other than 'Refund for Cosgriff, Charles'. The pay line proudly proclaims: ZERO dollars and TWO cents. There's a reference number, but I have no idea what that could mean. I'm not told which doctor I overpaid, or for what service I was so egregiously overcharged. Still, I'm two cents richer. Maybe I'll go to Europe or take a cruise. Honey, we won't lose the house after all.

Anyway, I must hurry to the bank. I only have 180 days to cash it or it becomes invalid.