Last night, I needed to go to Target to buy handsoap, granola bars, mascara, face wash, and toilet paper. It was the last night of a glorious five-day hiatus from work, due to some strategic planning of time off around the Veteran's Day holiday. I had checked my bank account that morning, knowing that I had a little over $100 left to last me until payday on Thursday. "I'm a master at making money last," I thought. "I can eat soup, drink water, and use the money for transport only. I bet I'll have $50 left on Thursday when my next check deposits."
Sure of myself, I hopped into Yellow Cab number #182 and rode $5.85 down the road (half a mile) to the Fair Lakes Shopping Center. I handed the driver my debit card (I never carry cash when I'm out alone, because protected Bank of America plastic is safer when stolen.) He handed the card back to me and said gently, "It says it's been declined."
"Impossible!" I thought. "I just checked my balance today. I know the money's in there." I quickly rummaged through my purse to find my emergency credit card, which was meant exactly for a situation such as this-- an emergency.
A cold, clammy feeling came over me as my hand groped from top to bottom of the blue lining inside my bag. Where was my card holder? I hurriedly dumped the contents of my purse onto the seat next to me. Papers, checks, a Starbucks gift card, lip gloss, a hairbrush.... no wallet!
"I can't pay you," I said, barely audible. My wallet seems to have disappeared."
"Well, we're here, so just get out and get what you need," he replied, slightly irritated.
"Sir, I don't think I can," I said. I had pulled up my bank account on my phone within seconds, thanks to my Bank of America app. It appeared that muy student loan payment (which was set for automatic debit on the 14th) did not go through until yesterday. And what's worse... the payment had graduated this month, making it $200 more than it has been for the past year.
So there I was, sitting in a cab, penniless, plastic-less, and plan-less, with the words, "I'm going to jail for $6." flashing like a burning neon sign in my brain.
"Can you just take me home? I have a cup of change there, and I think I can pay you in quarters." I was totally serious about this. On the way home, I told him everything, with intermittent bouts of "I'm sorry you're wasting your time on me" thrown in.
When we arrived in the apartment complex parking lot, he opened the door for me and asked, "Can I give you $20?"
"No, it's okay. I owe you money. And I get paid on Thursday. I'll manage until then."
"You have no money," he said. "I have some."
He insisted, shoving the shriveled bill into my hand. I was so stunned and amazed that I wanted to hug him. "What's your number or how can I get ahold of you to pay this back?"
"Don't wory about it," he said. "Everyone has bad days."
I thanked him twice more and walked through the door, stunned silent. I couldn't believe that a complete and total stranger, nonetheless a cab driver--the type of person with whom I notoriously have bad luck-- had committed this random act of kindness for me.
After ransacking my house to no avail to find the missing wallet, I went to bed determined to do two things this morning: (1) find my wallet and (2) ask my boss for a raise.
Currently, I make less than any of the other similarly situated EEO Specialists in my office (except for one, who will not be eligible for a promotion until January). We all have the exact same position description. I earn a lower salary than any starting federal government attorney, and I have been working for this office for over three years. I do not receive student loan repayment funds, and all of my Bar and CLE expenses are paid for out-of-pocket. How I came to be in my exact predicament is a long, somewhat sordid story for another day.
However, I have been to both my first and second line supervisors multiple times to ask them for the promotion, explaining to them that not only do I qualify for a raise on my education and licensure alone, I do the same work as the Specialists who recieve more pay than me, with the same position description. The responses I've gotten at various points in time have been:
"Not for another few months."
(when asked a few months later) "Your position doesn't go that high."
"You don't need your promotion yet, because you've 'been bad.'" (Yet no perfomance appraisal at all exists as proof of my bad-ness and I only received objectives earlier this year.)
My personal favorite reponse, from the office director, "Have you considered Section 8 housing?" **Not saying I wouldn't but I don't qualify for it based on income, and she knows this. I took this question to be more offensive rhetoric than anything.
Today, I was met with the same sort of opposition. No reason was given as to why I don't qualify for a promotion-- because I do-- but I was handed an internet address for some apartments in DC, said to be cheaper than the one in which I currently live.
They were the same price, and they had no in-unit washer/dryer hook-ups, which is somewhat of a requirement for someone who has no car, no hands to carry laundry, and no extra money for a coin-laundry if I'm paying the same amount in rent.
Personally, I think that I'm just being blown off time and again. I know what my rights are... but I've been struggling with whether to excerise them for some while now.
I just hope something new comes through for me on the job front, so I can put an end to that struggle.
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