An Embarrassment of Riches
CHECKS. CHECKS. CHECKS.
I’m looking at $223,367 worth of checks sent to me over the past few weeks. The biggest one is for $80,000. The smallest (piker!) is $20. I didn’t have to do a lick of work to get them. And I don’t know what to do with them.
Correction: I do know what to do with them. Ready, round file? Every one of them is an unsolicited “check” with sticky strings hanging all over it.
For example, the biggie-the $80,000-isn’t a check at all. Gee, what a surprise! It says “Pay to the order of” and spells my name correctly and has a bunch of code numbers and a printed signature. Uh, what bank is it drawn on?
And what does that four-point type say, there in a corner? Aw, shucks. It says, “Non-negotiable. No cash value. This is not a check.” Yeah, and Richard Nixon said, “I am not a crook.”
Hey, buddy, this gimmick is old and gray. When I was in the first grade (back in ought-six) one of my classmates brought one of these faux checks to school. Our myopic teacher wanted to throw a party, until a neighboring teacher, hearing the clamor, pointed out a hidden line-“Wouldn’t you like to have a real check like this?”
Ah, here’s the deal on this one: “YOU HAVE BEEN PRE-APPROVED FOR A LOAN UP TO $80,000.00.”
What do you mean, “up to”? That non-negotiable, no-cash-value checklet is for a flat 80 grand.
Reality Check OK, let’s agree we all knew when we saw that check-like image in the window, with “bulk rate” in the upper right corner of the envelope, that it was a virtual reality check. I’m intrigued by the mice-type on the reverse side of the letter, not the check:
How you were selected for this pre-approved offer: Information contained in your consumer credit report was used to determine if you met our credit criteria. After we have taken your application, we will verify your creditworthiness. We will also verify your ability to meet other applicable criteria such as income, job status and debt ratio and will ask you to furnish any required collateral. If you do not meet all of our criteria, we may cancel this offer.
So much for being pre-approved. Sob.
One of two $50,000 checks is a little more subtle. Oh, sure, I found the hidden but expected “This is not a check.”
The attached letter says, “We are pleased to inform you that your home may be eligible for a low interest 2nd mortgage in the amount shown above.” Yeah, “may”-better psychology. And they invite me to “discuss a possible increase in the amount shown above,” light-years better than that nasty word “apply.”
I really admire whoever designed the other $50,000 package.
On the envelope-the standard governmental manila, with the standard “Deliver to addressee only”-is the legend “Buy U.S. Bonds.” Terrific! That’s a clever touch.
This one says “This is not a check” as a light green line on a light green background, visible if you hunt for it. And the attached letter-except it isn’t quite a letter, since it’s set up as a display and has no signature-starts, “Dear Herschell.” An anonymous admirer, probably.
My reciprocal admiration is tempered by the multitude of asterisks in the text. They’re all over the place, following provocative semi-truths such as “No equity limitation!! means no appraisal” and “Some bad credit OK!!” (How can anybody have some bad credit? It’s like being pregnant-a simple yes or no will do.)
Yeah, the asterisk at the bottom sucks out the romance:
Subject merely to verification of debt ratios, credit scoring and of owner occupancy of property. Some programs may require equity.
That “merely” is a professional touch, but anybody who uses two exclamation points in a pitch like this already has two demerits against the score.
One mailing tries for verisimilitude by offering $43,200. Its envelope is even more patriotic than its competitor: “Buy and hold U.S. savings bonds.” And the checklet says flatly, “Check no. 2484739.”
Check no.? That “no.” is just plain “no” because there it is-“Non-negotiable coupon.” And they misspell my first name.
No Deposit, No Return Here’s a real check, but it’s for just $100, and I can’t deposit it in my regular account; I have to deposit it into my (yet to be established) Visa Platinum account. Some obfuscation here. See if you can decode it:
It’s easy. Simply fill out and sign the back of the attached check and mail it to us-then we’ll send you your Visa Platinum card. Make Visa Platinum your preferred account, and we’ll credit your account with $100 to spend as you please!
See it? How does one make this the “preferred account”?
More mice-type on the bottom of the reverse side. Buried in the mound is:
“We will pay you a reward for trying all the benefits of this Visa Platinum account, which simply means you must charge and transfer minimum amounts to your account once it is opened. Transaction fee for cash advances is 3%. Minimum $5.”
Oh, well. Didn’t your mother tell you never to say “you must” to strangers?
We’ve all had checks-real ones-from various long-distance carriers, bribing us to switch. Checks are good, and even their non-sibling imitators are eye-catching, especially in an era of direct deposits.
But easy on the double talk, huh? Our embarrassment of riches is turning into just a plain old embarrassment.
