Jill's Journal: Thanks for the credit, Ms. B's
By:
Jill Meier, Journal editor
I’ve been a working gal for decades. I started babysitting in the fifth grade, walked beans and de-tasseled corn later, cooked in a family restaurant through high school and steakhouse in college, bartended, served and cooked at Scotty’s Bar & Grill in neighboring Luverne, mowed for a farmer, worked in crowd management at the Sioux Falls Arena, did part-time bookwork for a pool league, dabbled in wedding, family and graduation photography as a sideline business, served as the advisor for a high school yearbook staff, was an administrative assistant for five years, and in the newspaper industry, I’ve worn the hats of reporter, editor, photographer, advertising sales rep and now publisher.
It’s fair to say my resume is plentiful.
As the snow piled up outside last Friday, I got to thinking about the first “charge” account that I had. I was in high school and was earning a steady paycheck from the hours I put in as a cook at DeToy’s Family Restaurant. Although the pay at the time was somewhat meager compared to today’s minimum wage, there was nothing better than holding the rewards of your work in hand. And then dashing off to spend some it.
I always made a point to plunk a few dollars into my savings account, because it was exciting to see that balance grow, too.
But I’m a girl, and I’ve had a lifelong love affair with finding something new on the racks.
In high school, Ms. B’s was a teen-aged gal’s best friend. She’d happily “hold” whatever we simply couldn’t live without, allow us to make timely payments and when the balance hit zero, it was ours to take home for keeps.
There were no minimum amounts to pay, interest added or late charges. Nope, she dealt with us personally – always stressing the importance of making good on our promise to pay.
Sometimes, I wish life today was as simple as that. Finding something you really want, saving for it or making payments, before it comes home with you.
I have credit cards, a few of them with balances – nothing too hefty, of course – but yet the debt is there. Every month, I plunk as much as I surely can on the balance. And then like all “I-want-that-now” shoppers, about the time the balance is zeroed out, something else seems to catch my eye.
While the payment plan established with Ms. B’s may not have given me instant gratification, knowing that my end-goal was on waiting on a hanger in the backroom was all the inspiration this working gal needed to bring home the prize – one package at a time.
