My Credit “Score”

I know we live in tough times. Credit card companies are cutting back on the line of credit they were once very ready, willing and able to give their customers, so a person with a $50,000 line of credit may merely have $25,000 today. My story is about a different kind.

Tuesday morning, I went to the office building where I work part-time. I don’t actually work there; that’s where the company is located. It’s a 2-story building and I would guess there are somewhere around 40 suites on both floors. What I do is drive around all of Orange County with a box mounted on the roof. The box contains 8 high definition digital video cameras and I shoot 360 degree panoramas of properties for real estate appraisers, realtors, lending institutions and local governments. At least, that’s the plan, but the economic downturn has put a terrible stress on the parent company’s pocketbook and that, effectively, cuts deeply into mine. In other words, my hours were cut. At least, I still have my writing, but I haven’t signed that big contract with Random House yet. Of course, graphic design is always something I leave open.

Most of the time, I drive to the office to pick up the equipment, which also includes a laptop and 500 gig hard drive. I leave the GPS and wireless antennae in the company vehicle, a new Scion xB. Sometimes, I drive it home, stow the equipment and leave from there in the morning. The owner of the company I work for and his wife are very nice and trusting individuals and I would say even more trusting of me as of Tuesday.

After parking my car, I removed the bag containing CDs, an apple and my own digital camera (one never knows what one may run into) and transferred it into the Scion. As I walked to the front of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk, I noticed what looked like a credit card attached to a piece of paper laying in the grass, just to my left. I thought it was one of those phony ones credit card companies send out to lure you into opening an account, but as I bent over and picked it up, I realized it was the real McCoy. I don’t remember whether it was VISA or MasterCard. Gee, I wonder who this belongs to, I thought. Oh well, I’ll take it to the office and ask Scott, the owner, if he recognizes the name.

Upon entering the building, you have a choice of taking the elevator or stairs. God knows I need the exercise, so I always use the stairs unless I’m hauling the equipment in and out. As I got to the second floor, I decided to try one of the other offices first. Mind you, I don’t know anyone else there, except for the casual hellos as we pass by in the hall or parking lot, but something compelled me to go to one door in particular. I entered the office and spoke to the receptionist, “Excuse me. I found this on the grass outside.” I casually thrust it into her hand to look at. “Do you have any idea who this person is or where he might be?”

I didn’t expect her to know everyone in the building, but I figured, what the heck. “Sure do,” she responded, “and he’s right back there in that office.” She walked back to him and beckoned me to follow.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“This gentleman found your credit card outside on the grass.”

“I didn’t even know I lost it. Whoa, thank you very much. That saved me one giant headache.” We shook hands. “How did you know it was mine? I mean, we never met before.”

“I don’t know. I just picked an office.”

We exchanged a little more friendly banter and then he asked, “Are you psychic or something?”

“No, psycho is more like it,” I quickly responded, and then I turned around to walk away, contented that I had done my good deed for the day.

“Hey, thanks again!”

“I wouldn’t have done it any other way.”

“I would have used it,” the receptionist joked.

When I got down to our office, I told Scott. He was quite impressed, but that’s just the way it must be. Oh, I could have activated the card and signed it and probably taken the day to do all of my Christmas shopping, but the thought never crossed my mind until later, when I told others about it and they told me what I could have done. Not me. Never. This is the poorest Christmas I will have to spend on others, but I’d rather have good karma than someone else’s credit.