Another Plight of Being Poor

The car that I bought last November is headed for the junkyard. It’s only a matter of time.

The look on the mechanics face told me something was tragically wrong before he even said any words.

“Bad news Miss. Merry.”

He walked over to me in the cushy Hyundai dealership waiting area. “You’re pistons are shot, especially in cylinder 4, which is where that noise you heard was coming from. You might not even be able to get it home today or it might last you another month or so. You need a new engine at the cost of $3,000, so might I recommend a trade in? One of our salesmen would love to help you get a new or used automobile!”

I sat in shock for at least 30 seconds, staring out of the window at my soon to be departed car. They had already taken it off of the lift.

“My credit is shit and I’m on a fixed income,” I replied slowly. (Yes, I did actually use the word shit.)

A nod. “Oh, I understand. But our guys here do miracles for people, are you sure?”

“Yes, it would be a waste of my time, seriously. The highest car payment that I could possibly afford is $100 and even that’s cutting it close.”

“Well,” he responded, “the car is safe enough to drive, but the engine will fail. I just cannot predict when that will happen. I’m really sorry.”

I felt numb. I managed a smile anyways. “Thanks.”

So I got into my car and drove it home. I remained numb and calm until evening approached. Then I became depressed and severely pissed the fuck off.

I went to bed early because I just wanted the day to come to an end.


It wasn’t what I was expecting at all. Here I was trying to be responsible and take it in soon after I noticed the “cha-cha cha, shee-shee shee” sound that it started making about two weeks ago instead of just ignoring it (procrastination is one of my specialties).

It’s weird having a car that still runs, but with a terminal diagnosis. Usually my cars are just DOA and that’s that. End of the line.

So I’ll drive it into the ground and try to save up some money somehow so that I can hopefully replace it. It’s the only option that I have.

I survive benefit to benefit from the gov and there’s not much at the end of the month to stuff away.

I usually take being poor rather well. I live a simple life, I’m careful with the money that I do have. I make sure that my bills are paid, that I have a roof over my head and food to eat.

But when disasters strike, for example when a washer or hot water tank breaks, I’m basically screwed. It’s a horrible feeling to be so helpless.

Having a car, to me, means freedom and independence.

The mechanic told me to stay local and only drive it when I absolutely need to, like going to the drugstore to get my medications or grocery shopping, various doctor appointments and things like that.

Perhaps if the good Lord sees fit, he’ll give me a few more months before it takes its final mile.

I know it’s just a car, but for me and millions of others in this world, it’s just another plight of being poor.


10 Signs You’re An Empath


I went to a bar with my boyfriend about a week ago, just to visit with a few of his friends and to have a quick beer. A woman (a complete stranger) started telling me about her decision to move away after losing her husband suddenly a few months ago and all of her health problems.

I listened to her story patiently and then told her that I thought a new start could be just the thing that she needed.

After we left, my boyfriend told me that she rarely ever talked about her problems, let alone with someone that she’d never even met before.

I shrugged and smiled. Happens all of the time, I told him.

Scam Alert


If you have a Facebook account, then you’re probably aware that people you don’t know can follow you, just like on that damn Twitter thing.

For the longest time, I had the same five strangers following me. I didn’t really give it much thought, until yesterday morning when I logged in to check my notifications.

I noticed that my count had risen by one. It was a guy who had a completely blank Facebook page, no friends or details about himself at all, which I found fishy.

I messaged this person and asked if I knew him and if so, from where?

While I was sleeping, he responded by telling me that I was so beautiful (ha!) that he just had to follow me.

Then he informed me that I had a wonderful smile. Did I get that from my mom or my dad?

I said my dad, because somewhere in my house there are two separate pictures of us sharing the exact same grin.

After a few generic replies that seemed insincere, shit started getting really weird. This all happened around 4 o’clock. He started asking me extremely personal questions, then he asked for a picture of my house and car.

I said no, what the fuck? Then he tried to fucking call me from the Facebook messenger app.

I declined it.

“Why didn’t you take my call?”

Um, because I don’t fucking know you.

“We’d get to know each other. LOL! Hey, do you like Nigerians?”

I blocked his ass faster than it takes for my deodorant to stop working on a 90 degree day.

I decided to check out my message requests just in case there were other scammers and sure enough, I saw a message from…yep, you guessed it, a young Nigerian man.

“Wow, Merry. You’re so beautiful!”

It was sent only a minute beforehand.

“Hello, are you there?”

I blocked him without responding.

I quickly Googled ‘Nigerian Scams’ and there were 32,900,000 results. These two men were somehow working in tandem to try to sweet-talk me into something sketchy.

I mean, as much as I enjoy being complimented on my gregarious smile by strange, creepy dudes on social media, they would have had better luck if they had offered me a lifetime supply of chocolate instead.


It’ll never happen because the real Willy Wonka is dead. 😦

Seriously, watch out, you guys. There is a land of straight up evil out here on the internet and these swindlers will try to bamboozle you.

Keep a close eye on your follower count, make sure that they have a legit Facebook page filled with memes of cats and inspirational messages.

And they should actually have friends, which is the whole point of Facebook to begin with.

You bet your rump that I’ll be checking out my Facebook privacy settings later this evening, because this experience really shook me up.