It was the night before Christmas, and Chase had just finished a big promotion.
It was supposed to be an all-you-can-eat buffet dinner.
But the invitation said that guests were only allowed to bring their own drinks.
As I sat there eating, my phone rang.
The voicemail was from Chase.
It had been two weeks since I’d received a phone call from Chase, and it was an important call.
They had been offering a $500 gift card for the holidays.
I picked up the phone.
It said that Chase had reached out and said they would be able to accept my request to bring my phone number.
I felt relief, I felt excitement, I thought, Thank you, Chase!
I got on the phone, and my voicemail rang again.
It wasn’t from Chase—it was from an unknown company, and they were calling to say that they could use my number for an account opening.
They were asking if I wanted to get the $500 to open an account, and I thought maybe they were trying to get me to sign up.
But then I saw the voicemail from Chase again.
I knew the Chase number I’d used for a number, and now I knew that I was the one who was going to get my $500.
I hung up the call.
I wanted the money.
But I didn’t want to sign a credit card with Chase, either. I didn