My Dreams Have Come True
Yes, Dear Readers, yesterday I was greeted upon my arrival at Chez Bingley by a most exclusive black envelope containing my personal invitation to leave the sullied sweaty rank ranks of the Hoi Polloi and breathe the Heady Atmosphere of, dare I say it, dare I even think it, the One Percent!
Look! It says it RIGHT THERE in the second sentence: I am the One Percent!1!1!1!1 And the card is “made with Carbon” so I assume it also harms Poley Bears! How cool is that?
The application for the card (not that I would need to or even deign to stoop so low as to fill out an application; I mean, puh-lease, do they realize just who I am? I’m sure it was included in the envelope in error by some ill-educated mumbling twit) was a pretty run-of-the-mill tell-us-about-your-gazillions sort of form except for one question which just comes completely out of the blue (and I quote): “Are you a married resident of Wisconsin?”
What the hell?
Did they not perchance note that they sent this mailing to New Jersey?
Has the paranormal paramours of Althouse and the Venerable Meade so shaken the foundations of International Finance that urgent steps need to be taken before such contagion spreads?
Or did someone drop a dime on me and tell them that I really do like curds?
Bastiches.
Fun, Life | Mr. Bingley | 
November 3, 2011 7:05 am
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Dear Bingley, if it turns out you are indeed a “married resident of Wisconsin” don’t expect your Bride and Outlaws to be too pleased.
That’s quite a prestigious attainment. And I’m stuck with just a Slate Visa card.
Just be careful with that thing; it’s like having a Mercedes Benz or something.
Oy! Such complications!
The Mr. Slate Card?
Are you Fred Flintstone?
Oh, and I forgot to mention that the annual fee for this card is FOURHUNDREDANDNINETYFIVE DOLLARS.
Ain’t no way this cheap Scot sumbitch is shelling out that.
The only black card worth having is the AMEX, which is made out of metal and can shear the head off a statue if you’ve forgotten your chapeau and have need of such services.
You’re just jealous.
Too lazy to look it up, but I remember, back when we were residents of Wisconsin, my parents talking about some truly annoying marital property or credit laws. Something about my mom having to get my dad to sign her Sears credit card application agreeing to it being in her name, not his. Or something. She was not pleased.
Also, Concierge Service is AWESOME: http://www.fourhourworkweek.com/blog/2010/05/01/credit-card-concierge/
Expect hordes camped in your yard banging drums all night, capitalist bloodsucker.
Being a card carrying member of the 1%, you’re really going to need that Mosin-Nagant now.
Shouldn’t I be able to have someone wield it for me, Jeff?
Alice, I truly deserve Concierge Service.
**sniff**
Hardly.
Especially since I KNOW, once they’d gotten your application BACK, realized who the cheap bastard was they’d sent it to, recovered from the invariable reams of merriment the thought alone the REJECTED JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT stamp was going to give them and, at last, sent it back to you for digestion and disposal ~ SO not jealous. Not even 1%.
Shouldn’t I be able to have someone wield it for me, Jeff?
Depends on much of a cheap bastard you are, Mr. Bingley. Good mercenaries don’t come cheap.
I got one like that once. It was addressed to Dear Rich Bastard or Current Resident. That was pre-blogging and I remember the yearly fee being about $1500 then. There was a number to call to see if I, as Mr Resident, qualified for a waiver of the yearly fee. The Bingleys and Rockerfellers probably do qualify but us Residents have to fork over the $1500.
Look at it this way,
For $495/yr, you, pasty-white Caucasian member of the 1%, get to play the Black Card.
What is there not to like?
YES!
I’m trying to figure out whether Maxine Waters would think it a good thing, or a bad thing, that the card is black.
Deep thoughts, I know.
Hail, fellow 1-percenter! I received the exact same invitation to fork over $495 per year. Oddly, I have declined.
Skip the dang fee; just carry around $50,000 and a Walther PPK. Be your own concierge!
What would the $50k be for, Mockingbird? 🙂