establishment

. We have lived together for a year. I thought his art would have taken off by now. He keeps creating it, and it is wonderful, but he will never take the next step and try to get someone to invest in it. Rejection is too much of a risk. His temp jobs make him feel inferior, so instead, he stays home, sleeping, watching porn, doing art (sometimes). I was barely making it financially on my salary before, even then I would have to ask my parents for help sometimes, and that was when I only had to take care of myself. Trying to take care of Carlos and myself is more than I can do, unless I get a new job. Massage therapy will take care of that one day, but I am still in school and can’t make any money on the side yet.
Right before Carlos and I got together, I bought a computer from a place that claims to have the “Best” value of electronics anywhere. That may be, but I can attest that they have the worst customer service and respect of any electronic company out there. I purchased the computer under one of their “buy now, pay no interest for eighteen months” deals. Well, the eighteen months are ending and I can not afford to start paying interest on the monthly payments. I have been saving a little so that I can pay it off when the time comes. I have also been paying more attention to what I bought at the grocery store; my CD and DVD addictions have been put on hold.
When Carlos and I went to get our groceries at the store for the week, I was standing at the checkout station, all the groceries bagged, a line of impatient customers tapping their toes behind me in line, when the sales associate hands me back my credit card and tells me it has been declined and asks for another card to try. There were no other cards. I had to leave all our food on the counter and leave the store. I made it to the car before the tears came. While my family was never aristocrats, I had never had to wait to afford something. My grandparents and parents worked extremely hard and their work had paid off, and I got to reap the benefits. When I could not put food on the table I knew I was failing to be the man I should be. Carlos felt bad too and was embarrassed with me. I had begun to sell off my DVD collection at the secondhand store so that I could afford gas to get to and from work. I could have asked my parents for help, but I never would. They did not know that I was paying everything for Carlos and not charging him rent. I could not use their money in ways that would hurt them. Carlos would get a job, he would start trying harder and things would get better. If not for himself, then because he would see how much I needed him to.
I had sent in my check to pay off my computer. I was so proud I had gotten it finished—all on my own, in spite of everything. It was done. When the bill came in asking for eighteen hundred more dollars, I thought it was a mistake. Carlos was making lunch in the kitchen while I called to figure out where the mix-up was.
“Yes, you still owe eighteen hundred dollars. While you did pay off your computer, you missed the deadline by a week and a half. Now you owe on the interest.” Am I talking to a woman or a machine? Could we maybe have a little inflection in our voice?
“I will definitely pay the interest. I did not know I was late. I am sorry. But, how can it be eighteen hundred dollars worth of interest in less than two weeks?”
Inflection! Bored and condescending, but inflection, nonetheless. “The interest is not for the week and a half. It is for the entire about of time you have owned the computer. If you had paid it off in time you would have owed nothing for the interest. Since you didn’t, you owe all the back interest that you would have paid.”
“I was never told that I would have to do that. They said I would not have to pay any interest for the eighteen months and then, if I did not pay it off, I would then start to pay interest on the payments. That is why I have worked so hard to pay it off now.”
“You were late.”
“Not even two weeks, and I was never told I would have to pay all the previous interest. Why would I try to pay it all off right now if I had known that?”
“It does not matter what you did or did not understand from what the sales associate stated to you. You signed a contract and it was quoted in that.”
I remember the contract. It was about twenty pages, and the clerk had explained to me what it said. “Do you really expect anyone to actually read every word of that? I would not even understand what it was trying to say! That is why the person I bought it from explained all the detail and had me initial as we went along.”
“That is not the issue sir. You made an agreement; you signed it. You are responsible for that payment.”
I am starting to lose control. My voice is raised and I am crying. “How do you expect me to pay for this? Especially when I am barely late? I can not even afford food right now. I am selling stuff to get gas!”
“Sir, if you do not control your tone, I will end this call. You signed the contract, no matter what you think you understood. You are responsible for the payment. You were late.”
“How can you treat a customer like this? I paid over three thousand for the computer and accessories. Don’t you even care about keeping my business?”
“Sir, I am ending this call.” Click.
I crumble onto the table. Choking on my own tears. I had thought I was soon at the end of it and things would start to even off and maybe even get better. How was I ever going to pay for this?
Carlos sits beside me and places his arm over my shoulder. “Sweetie, don’t worry. I love you. I will start working the temp jobs again. We will pay for this together. You don’t have to do it all. I love you and I will help.”
I feel better. With both us of, we could do this. No question. He understands what he needs to do to help us survive. He will do it to help us. To help me.
For the next three day, when I come home from work, I find Carlos in the same state as when I left—in bed.
Every night: “Were you able to get any work today?”
“No, I did not feel up to it. Can you quit asking me all the time. You are just like my mom!”
Every morning: As I walk out door, Carlos hollers from his bedroom: “Have a good day at work. I love you!”