Credit Report Card

In college, I was horrendous with my credit. Hor-ren-dous. Let me tell you. I always winced a little when I brought my bra, that was 50% off full retail price, to the counter for purchase, and the Victoria Secrets cashier would ask, “Do you want to save 10% on your purchase by signing up for a credit card?” I made the mistake once of doing just that, and I stood there for about 20 minutes, the phone being passed back and forth from the cashier to me, a long line of people waiting impatiently behind me, only to be told, in front of that line of people, “I’m sorry, the credit history wasn’t good enough. The application for the credit card was rejected. Your credit report didn’t work out for us.”

“Credit report? What credit report?!” I thought. This was right around the time the internet was invented, so I couldn’t even Google what horrible credit report meant. I was just told by MCSquared what it was. Needless to say, I never said yes to one of those credit card deal things again. Never.

As I grew up, my credit score got better. None of that was because of me. MCSquared had taken some control over my (debt) finances, and (paid a lot of it) set me straight in a lot of ways. My only marching orders were (not to spend anymore of my own or his money) fly straight from here on in. So, I did just that, and as of two years ago – my credit history was fantastic. I mean – really really great.

So, today, I go to buy a car, and was told what my credit score was. I was shocked. Not only was it not as good as it used to be, it was barely even good in comparison to the world of credit ratings. It was like getting a C or B minus on a report card. And that’s what it felt like. Like I had worked hard throughout my entire life (since college) to get my credit report back to good, and it was like I had failed a final- and BAM! I got a C on my credit report card.

But the worse wasn’t just hearing that I got such a terrible score… Well, it’s not that terrible, but it’s terrible enough.. But the worse was being called into the back room – and asked to fill out “additional” information. No one is called into the back room unless things on your credit report card came back under par. Just a year ago, I walked out of a dealership with a car, without having to go to the “back room.” I didn’t even think twice about it. But now, it’s as if your teacher is so disgusted with your performance that you have to be sent to the principal’s office. This is the adult version of the principal’s office. Let me add, I was never sent to the principal’s office in school.

So – there I was, sweating; trying to figure out exactly why my credit was what it was, challenging the person behind the desk reading this stuff off the computer if he was REALLY reading it correctly. It was terrible. Then, getting into my car and having to explain to MCSquared that I flew just this side of straight. Hey – I was aiming for that second star to the right…

Some of the things he read off the computer, I knew about. Other things, I had no idea. All I know is, the moment I got home, I signed up for one of the credit reporting companies – just to be able to keep tract of my credit. From now on – there is no messing around. It was like going over a test, or a report card even, and trying to make an argument for why or what happened in each situation. Only problem was, the guy behind the table had no control over any of the scores on my credit report card… So any efforts were completely futile.

Lesson learned. One: keep tract of your credit if you’re not already. I know it’s something people always say that I should have done, and I always said I was going to do it, but I’m GOING TO DO IT now. Two: pay your bills on time. One day after the 30 day mark is not a good thing. Finally: Don’t assume that just because a bill is some measly $100 that the credit report card people will care that you’ve been making all your other really expensive payments on really expensive things. That $100 is going to come back to haunt you.

I’m gonna get a frickin A on my next credit report card (apparently seven years from now – which is just about the amount of time it will take to clear my credit history of all this apparent mess) even if it kills me.