Read Online Very Recent History: An Entirely Factual Account of a Year (C. AD 2009) in a Large City by Choire Sicha - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Choire Sicha
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down, went back to his computer, chatted with Fred.
Fred, you’ll never guess what happened. I slept over at Edward’s.
You crashed there?
No, I slept with him.
I don’t mean this the wrong way, but I’m actually really shocked.
John thought this was the meanest thing Fred had ever said.
Gee, thanks, Fred, John wrote.
No no no, Fred wrote, not because it doesn’t seem like the right match, but because
Edward is religious about not doing anything with anybody.
And then . . . nothing happened. John was going nuts. Nothing was straight in his
head and he checked Edward’s Twitter, which was like Facebook—people wrote things
there on the Internet in public, but shorter. And it said something like, “Feeling
gloomy tired and worn out today.” And John nearly burst into tears.
John talked to Chad about it. Chad was like, “Well, uh, he just cheated on his boyfriend?”
Well, if you want to think about it like that, John thought.
So John wrote Edward an email. Subject line: “Now.” Body: “That was fun.”
Edward wrote back, in total: “Yes it was. . . . xo”
And John thought, Oh crap. And then, kind of desperately, he wrote back something
chatty and overtired and Edward didn’t even respond.
Later that day, after consulting with his work friends, he wrote an email to Edward.
“Hey, I don’t want to screw anything up for you but I’d love to see you again.” He
wrote that he meant “just as friends.”
Half an hour later he got two emails. One said, Edward has added you as a friend on
Facebook. The other said, yeah, I think that’s a great idea to be friends, my boyfriend’s
an awesome guy, everything that happened—
John stopped reading.
NOT THAT LONG before, two businessmen perfected an idea that they had been kicking around for quite
some time. They made a company that extended credit, on behalf of an individual, that
was accepted at an array of stores. Since before the invention of money, it was common
for people to delay the payment side of a transaction. For instance: He gives her
a dead bird, presumably for eating, but doesn’t ask for payment right away; tomorrow,
after being paid the shells due her for a woven basket, she gives him the shells that
she owes him for the bird.
This was called credit, and in modern times, what these men invented was called a
charge card. The card was a signifier that one held money; the holder of the card
would pay the issuer of the card at the end of the month; the issuer of the card would
pay the stores at which the person had received goods or services.
So people, particularly people who did not have many “dollars” on hand, could borrow
automatically, through these cards, in exchange for paying the total amount due at
the end of the month.
It was not long—not even ten years—after that that there came the credit card. With
the credit card, the holder was not compelled to pay the money due at the end of the
month. Instead, in exchange for allowing the holder to retain the money he or she
had spent, the issuer of the card—a bank—would simply charge the card user “interest.”
“Interest” was such a funny word to be chosen to mean this. “Interest” was an old,
old word, first meaning “to concern,” later meaning “to draw the attention of” and
also “cognizance for one’s own earnings”—and in this case it meant essentially that,
if there was an outstanding “balance,” then the issuer of the credit card would increase
the amount that was owed.
Interest was usually expressed as a percentage; it could range from almost nothing
to as high as in the hundreds. What kind of rate one was given was, at least in part,
based on how well—but not too well—one behaved with other credit cards. For instance,
never paying money owed was a very bad thing. Never borrowing money at all was a less
bad thing, but still not a good thing, in the eyes of financial
Fred, you’ll never guess what happened. I slept over at Edward’s.
You crashed there?
No, I slept with him.
I don’t mean this the wrong way, but I’m actually really shocked.
John thought this was the meanest thing Fred had ever said.
Gee, thanks, Fred, John wrote.
No no no, Fred wrote, not because it doesn’t seem like the right match, but because
Edward is religious about not doing anything with anybody.
And then . . . nothing happened. John was going nuts. Nothing was straight in his
head and he checked Edward’s Twitter, which was like Facebook—people wrote things
there on the Internet in public, but shorter. And it said something like, “Feeling
gloomy tired and worn out today.” And John nearly burst into tears.
John talked to Chad about it. Chad was like, “Well, uh, he just cheated on his boyfriend?”
Well, if you want to think about it like that, John thought.
So John wrote Edward an email. Subject line: “Now.” Body: “That was fun.”
Edward wrote back, in total: “Yes it was. . . . xo”
And John thought, Oh crap. And then, kind of desperately, he wrote back something
chatty and overtired and Edward didn’t even respond.
Later that day, after consulting with his work friends, he wrote an email to Edward.
“Hey, I don’t want to screw anything up for you but I’d love to see you again.” He
wrote that he meant “just as friends.”
Half an hour later he got two emails. One said, Edward has added you as a friend on
Facebook. The other said, yeah, I think that’s a great idea to be friends, my boyfriend’s
an awesome guy, everything that happened—
John stopped reading.
NOT THAT LONG before, two businessmen perfected an idea that they had been kicking around for quite
some time. They made a company that extended credit, on behalf of an individual, that
was accepted at an array of stores. Since before the invention of money, it was common
for people to delay the payment side of a transaction. For instance: He gives her
a dead bird, presumably for eating, but doesn’t ask for payment right away; tomorrow,
after being paid the shells due her for a woven basket, she gives him the shells that
she owes him for the bird.
This was called credit, and in modern times, what these men invented was called a
charge card. The card was a signifier that one held money; the holder of the card
would pay the issuer of the card at the end of the month; the issuer of the card would
pay the stores at which the person had received goods or services.
So people, particularly people who did not have many “dollars” on hand, could borrow
automatically, through these cards, in exchange for paying the total amount due at
the end of the month.
It was not long—not even ten years—after that that there came the credit card. With
the credit card, the holder was not compelled to pay the money due at the end of the
month. Instead, in exchange for allowing the holder to retain the money he or she
had spent, the issuer of the card—a bank—would simply charge the card user “interest.”
“Interest” was such a funny word to be chosen to mean this. “Interest” was an old,
old word, first meaning “to concern,” later meaning “to draw the attention of” and
also “cognizance for one’s own earnings”—and in this case it meant essentially that,
if there was an outstanding “balance,” then the issuer of the credit card would increase
the amount that was owed.
Interest was usually expressed as a percentage; it could range from almost nothing
to as high as in the hundreds. What kind of rate one was given was, at least in part,
based on how well—but not too well—one behaved with other credit cards. For instance,
never paying money owed was a very bad thing. Never borrowing money at all was a less
bad thing, but still not a good thing, in the eyes of financial
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