Jane

Her name is Jane, Ms J. That's the woman who owes me $5000. $4810, actually, but who's counting?

I am, of course. I loaned her the money last April. It was April 20. She said she needed the money to pay for some home repairs and to prepare the house for a quick sale. She promised to repay it "as soon as the house sells." She gave her word, and as her friend, that guarantee was quite sufficient. Besides, it was a lovely home in a nice location. I felt certain it would sell quickly.

Three months later, it sold, but for less than the asking price. Much less. In fact, Jane still owed the bank $7000 after the sale was complete.

I gave that money in good faith, Ms J. I offered a short term, interest free loan to a friend. I didn't know the mortgage was in arrears then, or that the bank had threatened foreclosure. I had no idea Jane's financial situation was so dire. I didn't know she had outstanding student loans and credit card debts. Indeed, she had recently bought a new truck. I didn't know Jane was so utterly irresponsible with her money.

In July, I visited her and she signed an IOU promising formally to repay the money. It was witnessed by Jenn, her "wife". (Yeah, Ms J, she is.) Despite this short-lived glimmer of hope, I have recovered only $190. of the total amount.

Yesterday, I sent her a gentle reminder.

"Hi Jane. It's been 5 weeks since your last deposit. I could sure use some help about now."

Here's her response:

"I don't want this to come across rude. I was laid off two weeks ago. My cats are eating dog food. I had to borrow money from jen for gas. I'm waiting for a notice of eviction cause I couldn't make my rent payment arrangements. I have 2 dollars in my bank account. So I understand your frustration. I can do $20 next Friday."

You know what, Ms Journal? I don't care. I don't give a shit about the problems resulting from Jane's inability to manage her finances. And as for her current state of unemployment, I think it's more a matter of sloth than circumstance. Jane is an apprentice carpenter, and while new home construction does experience a lull in winter, commercial projects continue year round. If she'd borrowed that money from a bank, she'd have to pay it back. She'd have been making (or perhaps missing) payments for seven months now.

Twenty dollars, Ms J. She's offered me twenty dollars. That's the price of a shirt. Or a restaurant meal. Less than half a tank of gasoline. It's a pittance, but at least she's trying. Or has promised (again) to try.

Colleen read Jane's excuses last night and urged legal action.

"Take it to Small Claims Court," she said. "She'll never pay you back unless she's forced to."

My head tells me Colleen's right. But my heart says be patient.

I wish my head and my heart could agree on something.

Anything.

Sometime.

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