paying off the gas syndicate

I'm going down before work today to finish applying for Welfare. Hah. How's that for an ironic sentence in the Land of Opportunity. Never done anything like this in my life. And it's only happening now thanks to the gas company and their little extortion game...(Please: we prefer to call it "Standard Policy"...)

$228.72 is what they want from me, to turn on the gas in my apartment. Not a penny of this is charges for gas, actual or imaginary, that I have used. It's all fees and deposits. The fees I won't attempt to fathom, and anyway they're incidental. But the deposits, which make up most of the bill, are calculated using these two factors: 1) the highest gas bill incurred by the previous tenant at my address (Please: we like to think of it as "insurance"), and 2) a quick look at my credit report. Which I thought was a nice blank page. But which turns out to have one terrible, irredeemable BLOT. And I can share this with you, readers, here from the safety of anonymity: six years ago, I was late with a credit card payment. Nevermind that I did pay the bill shortly. Or that the card itself, along with all my other worldly debts (okay, my financial debts) is now paid off entirely. That late payment makes me a Risk. And in a high-stakes game like providing utilities, we can't afford any risks. (Here's one more bit of information they gave me: should I choose, for some reason, to give up and just have it re-dis-connected, there will be a $63.00 Disconnect Fee. Cause if you can't pay 228 you can surely afford 63? Huh. "Disconnect" is right, I say.)

It wasn't that bad, the first time at the Welfare Office (c'mon, we like to refer to it as "Human Services"...) It was clean, well-lit, organized. There were people at every step to tell you where to go. The chairs were padded and less than 20 years old. People of all ages, races, and family structures waited quietly for their turn in line. My wait was only an hour. There was even free photocopying available for your documents. The document which they asked me to bring back this time is a letter from my boss at Domino's, stating that I do, in fact, work 13.5 hours a week for minimum wage plus the serendipitous generosity of my fellow workers who choose to tip. Hopefully this will be enough for them and they won't be sending Tony to break my legs (yeah, I know, you really like the term "Collections"...)