I'm thinking about applying for a credit card.
WAIT!
DON'T JUDGE!
To an outsider ('outsider' here meaning 'any smart and/or sane member of the human race'), the idea of Jacki Trew getting a credit card probably seems like the worst life decision since Robert de Niro agreed to do Little Fockers. But here is my reasoning:
1) I'll only use it for the most emergent of emergencies.
2) I won't keep it in my wallet, but in a solid block of ice at the back of my freezer.
3) My greatest fear in life is not being able to pay the rent.
Alright, well that last point isn't strictly true. My greatest fear in life is being trapped in an aquarium pool with a pod of male dolphins, obviously. But not being able to pay the rent definitely makes the top 5. And while I've gone almost 22 years without missing a payment so far, I've learnt to accept the reality that the stock market is an unpredictable thing, people can't always afford luxury services like the ones provided at the company I work for, and at any minute I could be fired, broke, and living in a cardboard box behind my parents' garage. For the record I would love to try that for experimental purposes anyway, but being that I'm 21 and part of Generation Y I'm not sure that my body would actually survive more than 24 hours without Facebook.
My Mother has always warned me against getting a credit card - whether this is because she doesn't want me to become trapped by hidden fees and interest-laden repayments like so many others, or simply because she knows I am the kind of idiot who would consider it 'free money' and run out to buy 18 pairs of Christian Louboutins as soon as the card arrived in the mail, I'm not sure. To me, getting a credit card is one of the key indicators that a person is finally an adult. There are actually 5 signs in total:
- The credit card thing
- Chest hair
- Owning your own house
- Engaging in sexual activity with Hugh Jackman
- Death
Don't worry. You don't have to do them all at once.
So - to credit card or not to credit card? That is the question. If I don't think about it too hard (not difficult for me), the obvious answer is a resounding YES, as long as I keep it well-hidden from my Mother. The only problem is I keep thinking about that movie Confessions Of A Shopaholic where Isla Fisher signs up for 12 dillion credit cards, goes on a major shopping spree, and ends up being chased around New York by a debt collector with terrible hair. While on the one hand I don't live in New York and don't know of ANY banks that would approve me for 12 dillion credit cards, on the other I'm definitely a bigger idiot than Isla Fisher and would surely get myself into an even more dire situation without trying. For one thing Sydney is way smaller than New York, so it'd be much harder for me to hide from the bank than it was for Isla; all she had to do was run down the fire escape. My building doesn't have a fire escape, so my only option would be a suicide swan-dive off the balcony - and I live on the 3rd floor. And even if I survived that, the debt collector would almost definitely be tipped off by the 3 new Ferraris sitting in the carpark.
So even though it's only 7:30 in the morning (on a Sunday), I'm sitting on the couch blogging in my undies, and there's a 67% chance I'm still drunk from last night, I'm going to say no to the credit card for now. I'm a bad candidate, it's a bad idea, and there will be terrible consequences. Right?
Right.
End of discussion.
Then again...it would be nice to own 18 pairs of Christian Louboutins.
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