Money for nothing

Money

I was online recently, googling myself when I decided to log on to my bank account. But after the usual fun of getting my password wrong three times, having my account blocked and then having to spend an hour and a half ‘holding the line’ whilst a bored customer care representative reset my log in details, I noticed a rogue £50 in my account. Someone had paid me £50 for nothing, which was a very strange thing to happen to me indeed. You see, I am a self-employed writer and performer and the simple work-for-money narrative that most people in the capitalist world take for granted, does not always run so smoothly for me. In my world, the process is more like:

  1. I get asked to do some work, say, a comedy gig.
  2. I do the work as agreed.
  3. Four months later, I write an email asking for my money. Nothing happens for another two months.
  4. Nothing happens for another two months.
  5. I call and act all passive-aggressive. Before I hang up I pretend to have a cough. I splutter something about wishing I could afford the medicine.
  6. Finally, a month or so later I get paid half the agreed amount. ­ There is usually a fun reason for this such as “there were exchange rates issues” or “the lunar eclipse messed up our accounts.”
  7. I sulk for a week. Kat questions her life choices.

But now something different had occurred and a number of possible scenarios flashed through my head. Maybe it was the universe realising what an immense talent I am, rewarding me for just being me. Maybe it was a major Hollywood studio trying to woo me into signing a mega 8-movie deal with them, which would see me propelled to international stardom. Maybe it was hush money, so that I wouldn’t tell the world some deep dark secret that would rock civilization as we knew it… but I didn’t know any deep dark secrets that would rock civilization. I wish I did, but nobody ever tells me anything. Also if a Hollywood studio is trying to woo me with £50 than they must have major cash flow issues.

Which meant that there was only one explanation.: the universe was rewarding me for being me. And it was about time too! I am a talented, forward-thinking, unique individual. Tank you universe for recognising me, for encouraging me, for believing in me. For…that is when I saw the email. And just like that, the £50 was gone – the bank had deposited it into my account by mistake.

Bloody universe!

© 2016 – VIDA Magazine – Steve Hili