Part 2Trouble from a Mispaid Phone Bill

When I woke up again, six hours had passed.

I pulled back the curtains, and the bright noon sun flooded my bedroom. A full night's sleep and a dose of sunlight-induced serotonin had me feeling refreshed and clear-headed.

My stomach rumbled. Time for lunch.

A corporate drone with only one day off doesn't venture outside. I picked up my phone to order some food.

My blood ran cold when I saw the screen: ninety-nine-plus missed calls.

And with them, an endless stream of profanity-laced texts that would make a sailor blush.

Just as I finished placing my order, another unknown number called.

Furious, I answered, ready to strike first. "Are you insane? If you made a mistake with your phone credit, call the provider! Why do you keep harassing me?"

The person on the other end was even angrier than I was.

"Are you f*cking dead? I've been calling you all morning and you don't pick up? You think I won't use that two grand to buy you a coffin?"

This time it was a man's voice, probably the woman's husband.

My good mood for the day was completely ruined.

I’d been living and working on my own for three years since graduation. I always made a point of only sharing good news with my family back home, never the bad, so they wouldn't worry.

With that in mind, I took a deep breath, determined not to cause trouble, and patiently explained the situation one more time.

"I have a ten-dollar-a-month plan. That two thousand dollars will take me over sixteen years to use. If you're in a hurry, you should contact customer service. They can refund the money to your account."

The man didn't hesitate for a second. "Cut the crap. So what if it takes sixteen years? You can leave it to your grandkids. Customer service will take at least a week to process the refund, and I can't wait that long. You need to transfer the money to my account right now, or I'll find someone to cave your head in. You hear me?"

Unbelievable.

They couldn't wait seven days, but they expected me to accept a phone credit balance that would outlive my cat.

How could they even say that with a straight face?

Since six this morning, it had been a nonstop barrage: a mistaken transaction, a rude awakening, verbal abuse, and now a death threat.

Did they think they were kings of the world?

A volcano of anger erupted inside me.

"Can't wait seven days? Are you in a hurry to get to your own funeral? Why should I have to pay for your mistake? Either you call customer service and get your money back the right way, or I'll send you ten dollars a month until you die, and then your grandkids can inherit the rest."

I slammed the phone down. To ensure I wouldn't be disturbed again, I popped the SIM card out of my backup phone and tossed it in a drawer.