It’ll Work Itself Out (It Actually Won’t)

It was my nastiest, truest tradition: my Friday morning trip to the Bank of America on Bleecker Street.

I’d end up there every other week. Not the day you probably think. I never went on the Fridays that were paydays — though those were nice days. But on the other Fridays, always. The ones when I knew without looking that my account was low. The ones when I knew how far away the next payday was and that I might not make it with what I had.

So, twice a month, I’d go and overdraft the perfect amount.

It was a skill you had to learn. You couldn’t try to withdraw too much, because you ran the risk of Bank of America being like, “Hell no, broke scam boy. We’re locking down your card and maybe telling the police.” But, equally as troublesome, if you didn’t withdraw enough, and then spent it all, you couldn’t go back and withdraw more, because your account was already in the red. You only had this single chance.