My Life As A Deadbeat

I am an international student who skipped out of Canada after running up a large debt. Okay, I am not, but a number of collection agencies believe me to be.

When, last autumn, I got my iPhone, Rogers assigned me a recycled phone number. I should have known it was recycled because it was too good to be true. The last four digits, "2215," are wonderfully conventional, and the first three digits are part of a familiar exchange. (There you go, telemarketers: I have narrowed down my private phone number to under a thousand combinations. Fill your boots -- and your long distance bills.) So, it was not the kind of odd combination of numerals one usually gets for new cellphones. I could almost remember the number. And, honestly, is that not the struggle? How often does one call oneself, anyway?

Within days, I started to get calls from unfamiliar people, strange voicemails. When I decided to return one, I learned the extent of the ugly truth: the fellow who used to have my number owed a lot of people a lot of money.

At first, the collection agents did not seem to believe me. I was not a young student from Asia? Was I sure I was not? Okay, but did I know him? Did I live on Columbia Boulevard? Was I certain I did not? Eventually, they all agreed to flag "my" file with this information, and the calls stopped. But as the debts get passed from agency to agency, the calls begin again, and so does the cycle of explanations.

There are two things that have interested me through this process. Number one, these collection agents have been nicer than I expected they would be. Of course, they should be apologetic when they learn about their "mistake," but -- even as I have had to convince them of my real identity -- they have been polite, for the most part. They do, it must be said, answer their extensions rather abruptly, however: "What? Yeah?"

Number two, these collection agents take no care with this fellow's personal information. In an attempt to determine whether I am telling the truth, whether I might actually be his acquaintance, they tell me all kinds of things about him.

Still, I have never been able to bring myself to ask them exactly how much money he was given.  Oh, easy credit.  You really are a gift, are you not?  I believe that credit card companies and other similar businesses have pulled back from the big campus pushes that we saw in recent years.  I used to think that giving students access to all kinds of credit hurt students; it now seems clear that it hurt some creditors, too.

Comments

[Char]

So I'm not the only one on campus to receive these calls! I think the blokes give them my number deliberately. And you're right, the collectors pass on any and all information you request. Privacy be damned.

[T]

I love this. My husband bears the same name as a now infamous fraudster, and we get all kinds of comments about it. He gets searched at every airport security checkpoint, and at our lawyer's office the secretary recently asked me if I was sure I knew this man. I told her I didn't and maybe she should check his ID one more time. :)